All The Pretty Ponies
by The Last Letter
Summary: Sam has grown up in San Francisco. At 16, she's happy with life. But after a chance meeting with a college guy, she's questioning her entire life. Like a childhood she can't remember and an absent father. Sake. AU.
1. Prologue: Hush A Bye

_Glass shatter._

_ Pain._

_ Blood._

_ A face._

Samantha Forster woke up screaming. Her throat was raw by the time she managed to stop her noise. She buried her face in her hands, trying not to cry as her bedroom door opened.

"Go back to bed, Mom," she said, not looking up.

"Baby," Louise Forster replied, sitting on the edge of her daughter's bed. "Was it the dream again?"

Sam nodded, crawling into her mother's arms. So what if she was sixteen years old? She needed her mommy right now. The tears came, now that she smelled her mother's familiar perfume, was wrapped in the strong embrace. She let herself shake, trying to rope in her wayward fear.

"Why do I keep having that dream?" Sam whined. "I don't understand. It's all just stupid bits and pieces that I don't understand."

"Honey, I don't think we'll ever know." Louise peered into her daughter's eyes, so like her own. "Your subconscious just came up with it one night when you were little. I just don't know how to save you from it."

"I'll be okay Mom." Sam whispered, though she didn't believe it. "It's probably from a scary movie I wasn't supposed to watch."

Her mother gave a weak smile. "That's probably it. Are you okay to go back to bed, or do you want me to sit up with you a little longer?"

"Sing me the song, Mommy," Sam begged, feeling like a young child.

Louise smiled, gently tucking her daughter into bed. "Yes, Baby, of course." She settled into the chair next to Sam's bed, and sang the lullaby Sam had always loved.

"Hush-a-Bye  
>"Don't You Cry<br>"Go To Sleep My Little Baby  
>"When You Wake You Shall Have<p>

"All The Pretty Little Ponies  
>"In Your Bed<br>"Mamma Said  
>"Baby's Riding Off To Dream Land<br>"One By One  
>"They've Begun<br>"Dance And Prance For Little Baby  
>"Blacks And Bays<br>"Dapples And Grays  
>"Running In The Night<br>"When You Wake  
>"You Shall Have<br>"All The Pretty Little Ponies  
>"Can't You See The Little Ponies<br>"Dance Before Your Eyes  
>"All The Pretty Little Ponies<br>"Will Be There When Your Arise  
>"Can't You See The Little Ponies<br>"Dance Before Your Eyes  
>"All The Pretty Little Ponies<br>"Will Be There When You Arise  
>"Hush-a-Bye<br>"Don't You Cry  
>"Go To Sleep My Little Baby<br>"When You Wake  
>"You Shall Have<br>"All The Pretty Little Ponies  
>"All The Pretty Little Ponies<br>"Hush-Bye Don't You Cry."

Louise let the last note of the song linger. Sam had fallen asleep somewhere in the middle, calmed by her mother's voice. Louise rose from where she had been sitting, and brushed her lips across Sam's forehead. "Forgive me, Sam," she whispered to the sleeping girl, who didn't even stir at her mother's words.


	2. Don't You Cry

"She goes left; she goes right. She runs down the court, she shoots, she … Misses the hoop completely." Pam, Sam's best friend, sighed.

Sam darted after the ball that Pam let bounce away, and picked up her own play-by-play narration. "Sam Forster takes it down the court, she goes left, she gets ready, she shoots and she scores!"

"That," Pam huffed, "is not fair."

Sam responded by sticking her tongue out at her best friend. "Ready to leave?" she asked. "I have to get to work."

"It's so boring that you have a job." Pam whined. "It totally cuts into Sam/Pam time."

"Well, I can't help it. I'm saving up for that new laptop and Mom said if I earn half she'll pay for the other half." Sam explained as they headed for the locker room.

Pam still sighed. "It still sucks that you have to get the job in the first place."

"I know, I know. But the restaurant I'm working at lets you have a free meal at the end of your shift." Sam grinned, "It's a pretty good deal. I get money and food."

"And a laptop at the end of it."

"Exactly, now, I have to hurry. I can't be late."

Sam dashed into the restaurant, shimmied into her uniform, and smiled at Derek.

"Just in time," he rumbled at her.

"Yeah, yeah," Sam said. She gave Derek a sidelong glance. He was twenty two and attempting to work his way through college. And he was really cute.

She pulled a pad of paper and pen from the pile. She then headed toward the crowded tables. "Hi, I'm Sam and I'll be your waitress today." She looked at the good looking boy sitting in front of her.

"Hey. I'll have a black coffee and, do you serve breakfast all day?"

"Yes, we do." Sam confirmed.

"Okay, so I'll have a black coffee and a breakfast platter. And my friend will have," the guy paused, musing.

"Your friend?" Sam teased, looking pointedly at the empty chair across from him.

"On his way," the guy dismissed her words. "He'll also have a black coffee and this Rancher's Dinner," he pointed on the menu, and Sam nodded.

"Will he be having sausage or bacon with that?"

"I'd give him both," the guy advised. "He eats like no tomorrow."

"Okay," Sam finished scribbling down on her notepad. "Coming right up."

She left the order with the kitchen, and dropped off the coffees to the guy and his, thus far, invisible friend. She went to her next few tables, then back to the kitchen, picking up the breakfast platter and the Rancher's Dinner.

She was actually kind of surprised to see that the guy had indeed had a friend join him.

The original guy glanced up at her, breaking into a lazy sort of grin. "Hey, lovely lady, told you I had a friend joining me."

"And I'm very impressed you didn't lie to me." Sam placed the breakfast platter in front of him, and then turned to the other guy. "Your Rancher's Dinner."

She swept an appreciative glance over the second guy. He had dark skin, with long black hair. His eyes met hers, and she felt an electric jolt from those dark brown eyes. For a moment, she was unable to move, captivated by those seemingly endless eyes. Then, he spoke. "Sam," he breathed her name.

"Yes?" She broke the contact with his eyes to glance down at the nametag on her uniform. "Can I get you something else?" She prayed that the guy had not made a mistake in ordering his friend the 'Rancher's Dinner'. That was just something she didn't want to deal with.

"Samantha Anne Forster." He said her full name which was _not_ on her nametag.

"Who the hell are you?" She demanded, forgetting about her job and the other tables that were waiting on her attention.

"Jake," the guy said. "Don't you remember me?"

Sam thought guiltily of the party Pam had talked her into over the summer. She'd gotten really drunk, and most of the night was gone. "Look, if you're from that party, I'm really sorry, but I don't know you."

"I'm not from some party. We grew up together."

Sam shook her head. "You're out of your mind. I have work to do." She turned away from the table, but the guy's last words echoed in her ears.

"You can't run away from this, Brat."

Sam went straight home after work. She spent a moment brooding over the fact that she had promised Sabrina part of her next paycheck if the other girl would take care of her first table. Thankfully, Sabrina agreed. Still, Sam had watched them carefully until they'd left half an hour later.

When she got home, she half expected Pam to be waiting for her, but instead, her large apartment was devoid of any kind of human life. She was actually kind of grateful for it. She needed to mull over something. Like how that guy knew her name.

Sam was positive she didn't know him. She was sure she'd never seen him before. She didn't want to sound racist, or prejudiced, but all of her friends were in her own race. She didn't intentionally make it that way; it was just how it had happened. Sam bit her lip as another thought came to her. Pam knew a lot more people than she did. Maybe her best friend had put the guy up to it, as a prank on her. Pam _had_ been teasing her about having a job lately.

Sam sat down at the communal desktop that she, her aunt and her mother shared. She logged into Facebook, searching for Pam's profile, and then clicking on her friends. She then searched her own memory for what the guy had said his name was. _Jake_, she recalled. She quickly flipped to the J's.

_Jacob Allers_

_ Jacob Donner_

_ Jacob Laver_

_ Janie Santos_

Sam reread the short list of Jacob's then double checked that there were no Jake's. She then opened all three profiles. Jacob Allers was Asian, Jacob Donner and Laver were both white. Still, she didn't dismiss the theory. Pam might not have him on Facebook. Or he might not even have Facebook. She knew a couple of kids like that, as weird as it was. The latest she would see Pam was tomorrow morning, so she could confront her best friend over it then.

Mind made up that it was Pam, Sam went into the kitchen. There, stuck to the counter, was a note: _Be home 6. Love, Sue._ Her aunt. The note below was from her mother. _Sam, I'll be home at five-thirty and I'll be bringing supper. Don't make anything. – Mom. _There went Sam's idea of making a nice sandwich and curling up in her room with a good book. With a sigh, she grabbed a glass of orange juice and went to hunt down her favourite book.

The book, however, didn't want to cooperate. It wasn't where Sam swore she'd left it, sitting on her desk. Sam put her hands on her hips, before remembering that her mother had wanted to borrow it. She crept across the hall and pushed open her mother's door. She took a few steps inside, scanning the room. She felt like an intruder. She spotted the book on her mother's desk and scurried over.

She picked up the hardcover, and noticed Louise's bookmark sticking out of the back. She flipped to the scrap of paper, reading it. _Grace Forster – 555-9467. _Sam reread it; sure she'd gotten something wrong. She knew all of her relatives, which there was only a small handful of. None of them were named Grace. She looked. _Grace Forster_. Forster. Her father's name.

Louise had told her that her father and she had gotten married. But when Louise had gotten knocked up and, he left. He had cut off all ties with Louise. He hadn't come to see baby Sam. He even denied that Sam was his daughter. That's why Louise had moved in with her sister, Sue, and together they had raised Sam. Louise had never even told Sam her father's real name. She only knew that Forster wasn't her Mom's maiden name because it wasn't the single Sue's last name.

So, this Grace person, who was she? Was she her father's new wife, trying to convince her father to reach out to her?

It was the only possibility that seemed real to Sam, but why did Louise have the note hidden from her? Why hadn't Louise talked to Sam about it? Come to think of it, why did Louise avoid mentioning Sam's father? She knew that being abandoned had to have hurt Louise, Sam understood that, but Sam was sixteen now. At the very least, she deserved to know about her father, and make up her own mind about him.

Sam picked up her book and the piece of paper. She would talk to Louise about it when her mother got home. For now, her bed and rumpled comforter was looking really inviting. She curled up against her pillows, waiting for her mother to bring dinner, and the answers she'd been craving about her father. Because, as much as she swore he never crossed her mind, he did. How could she not wonder about the man who helped bring her into existence? The man she'd never even met. The man whose name she did not know. Of course she wondered. She wondered all the time. She'd just never had a good enough reason to ask her mother about it, knowing it would upset Louise.

Sam convinced herself the note was a good enough reason to bring all the memories of Mr. Forster to Louise's mind.

Sam remained locked in her reading position until five-thirty, when her mother came bustling in. "Sam!" Louise screeched, as though she were afraid her daughter wouldn't be there.

"Yes, Mom?"

"Help unload this, would you, honey?" Louise set Styrofoam trays of Chinese food on the counter.

"Of course." Sam set to work, trying to ease into the conversation before Sue got home. "How was your day?"

"Same old, same old run of the mill routine." Louise rumpled Sam's hair as before getting out drinks. "What about yours?"

"I talked to this guy at the diner today," Sam began. She instantly questioned herself. Why was she bringing that Jake person into this? He was just a hoax set up by Pam.

"Oh really?" Louise settled down in her chair, as did Sam. "Was he cute?"

"Very. He was gorgeous, Mom." Sam surprised herself by being that open with her mother about the guy. She usually attempted to keep her thoughts of guys under wraps.

"Even better. Does he go to your school?"

"No. He looks college age."

Louise looked slightly surprised at this. "You're sixteen honey. Don't go rushing into the older guy thing."

"Don't worry about it. That wasn't the point of it. I doubt he thought I was cute anyway." Sam bit her lip. She really wished she were cute enough to snag a guy's attention.

"So what was the point of it?" Louise finally asked.

"He knew my name. My full name. But, I've never seen this guy before, I swear. And then he starts saying how we grew up together. Like, what the hell right?" Sam let it all out in a gush. "I think it was just Pam playing a prank on me though."

"Would Pam do something like that?" Louise didn't seem to be phased.

"Possibly. But I don't know where she would know this guy from. I thought I knew most of her friends. She doesn't even have him on Facebook."

"Some people don't have Facebook," Louise sighed, reinforcing the fact that she thought Sam should not have Facebook.

"I know. But again, I thought I knew most of the people she did. Obviously this Jake guy slipped my attention."

Louise froze. "Jake?"

"Uh yeah. I'm pretty sure that was his name."

"Was he Native American?" Louise demanded.

"He had dark skin," Sam confirmed. "But I don't know what his race is."

"Where did you meet him?"

"At the diner, I told you that. I had to serve him and his friend, this greasy looking guy." Why was Louise freaking out like this?

"You're never going back to that diner in case he's there." Louise told her. "I'm proud of you for getting the job but it's not necessary. I'll buy you the laptop."

"Gee, thanks Mom. But, do you know Jake?" The name sent a tingle through her tongue, like she'd said it a thousand times before, and it was a relief to be able to say it again.

"No." Louise barked, but it came out too quickly.

Sam was suspicious, but she quickly switched tactics, hoping her mother would reveal more about the mystery Sam was sure she'd stumbled upon.

"Mom, who's Grace Forster?"


	3. Go To Sleep My Little Baby

Louise froze. "Grace Forster?" She choked out after a moment.

"Yeah, the person on this note," Sam brandished the paper. "Is she my relative? Is she related to my father?"

"Where did you …" Louise went white for a moment, before turning bright purple. "YOU WERE SNOOPING IN MY ROOM?"

"No," Sam snapped, hurt that her mother would think that of her. "It was left in the back of my book. Who is she, Mom?"

"Get away from me," Louise ordered. "And you're grounded."

"That's not fair! I didn't do anything!" Sam yelled.

"I don't care. Get to your room right now. I don't want to see you until tomorrow morning."

"Then tell me who she is!" Sam fought back. "If she's my father's wife or something-"

"She is _not_ your father's wife. I will tell you that much," Louise said. "Now, ass to room now!"

"No! If she's related to me, then I have a right to know. And I deserve to know about my father too!"

"Samantha!" Louise screeched, "SHUT UP!"

Sam trembled, and hated that tears were coming to her eyes. Who was this woman in front of her? Surely it wasn't her mother, who comforted and sang to her when she had nightmares.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Sam heard the voice and fled toward it, straight into the arms of Aunt Sue. "Louise," Sue gasped, having heard her sister screaming at her niece, "What is going on here?"

Sam looked up at her Aunt, "I asked about my father." She whispered.

"Oh." Sue nodded with understanding. "Louise, just tell her."

"No," Louise was on the defensive again. "I took a vow to protect my daughter, and telling her, revealing what –"

Sue caught Louise off. "I am also here to protect Sam. And hiding Wyatt from her isn't helping her anymore. Hiding the past won't change it."

"_Wyatt_," Sam gasped the name. "Is that my father?"

"Yes, honey." Sue confirmed.

"Be _quiet_." Louise's voice was shrill. "I forbid you from saying anymore. The doctors –"

"Don't always know. Besides, a lot has changed. The medical world is not the same as it was seven years ago. Opinions have changed. You would know this if you paid the least bit of attention the material I gave you to read."

Sam's mind swirled as she struggled to understand the argument between her relatives. Doctors? Medical world? What was going on? What happened seven years ago? Sam counted back the years. She would have been nine. What had happened when she was nine?

"I'm standing by what I was told. And I have a very good reason."

Sue snorted. "What would that reason be?"

"You hear her at night, Sue. You hear her screaming and crying. What if that got out? What happens if that leaks into her waking hours? She'll never be normal."

"Someone tell me what is going on!" Sam demanded. She needed to know. Who wouldn't need to know? "Mom, what are you talking about?"

"Yeah, Louise," Sue picked up a taunting tone. "What are you talking about?"

"Stay out of this Sue. This is between me and Sam."

"There's nothing between you and Sam," Sue shot back. "You haven't told her anything. You just completely eradicated her life."

"What was I supposed to do?" Louise wailed. "She was near catatonic! I had to protect her!"

"By destroying any chance she had of her life!"

"Does she look messed up to you? Like she's had no life? San Francisco was the best thing for her. I stand by that."

"What about everyone you left behind?" Sue reminded her. "Hmm? What about Grace? What about the Ely's? Hell what about Bl-"

"Don't." Louise's voice was low and dangerous. "Just don't, okay? Because they don't mean anything."

"Like hell they don't." Sue snapped. "You destroyed that child's world. Can you imagine how different life would have been if you had stayed?"

"But I couldn't have stayed. Not with what happened. San Francisco was about my new beginning too."

Sam glanced at her mother from the embrace of Sue's arms. She was shocked. She had never seen that level of pain in her mother's warm gaze. It seeped into Sam's bones, making her feel like she was in agony too.

"Fine. You have your new beginning, but there's no reason to hide Nevada from Sam."

Louise cringed at _Nevada. _Sue noticed.

"NEVADA! NEVADA NEVADA NEVADA **NEVADA**!" The woman screamed at her sister. "Nevada." She repeated more quietly.

"Stop it!"

"What's wrong with Nevada?" Sam interjected.

"You were born in Nevada," Sue told her gently.

"Shut your mouth, sister." Louise growled.

"I've never been out of San Francisco," Sam protested.

"Right. After you arrived when you were nine. Before that, you lived in Nevada on a ranch. You rode horses and did barn chores."

Louise did something she thought she would never do. She slapped her sister across the face.

"Do _not_ say another word."

"Mom, is this true?" Sam wrapped her arms around herself tightly, stepping away from Aunt Sue. "I lived on a ranch? Why did we move? What happened to my father?"

"See what you've started?" Louise glared at Sue.

Sue glared right back. "You started the mess years ago. I just brought your attention back to it."

"Mom!" Sam stamped her foot, feeling like an immature child, but not caring. It brought Louise's attention back to her. "Answer me! What happened?"

Louise wiped a hand over her face, suddenly looking old. "Go sit in the living room." She ordered her daughter, but her tone was weary.

"I want my questions answered!"

"They will be," Louise snapped, fire slipping back into her tone. "But I'm getting some tea and then we'll talk."

"And I'll be right there," Sue assured Sam, "making sure she tells you the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth." She added as she whisked her niece to the couch.

As Sam sat next to Sue and waited for her mother, she thought. She thought about _Nevada_. All she knew about the place was how to find it on a map. And that Las Vegas was located there. She'd never really thought about the state that bordered California. It was so close, yet so far away. But was she really born there? She reviewed the information she already knew. Sue had said she had lived there until coming to San Francisco when she was nine. But, when she looked back in her memory bank, Sam found no memories of living anywhere else but San Francisco.

Sam also realized something else. When she looked back, she had no memories of her young. Her memories all began when she was about ten or eleven. Possibly even nine. Why couldn't she remember things from when she was five? What about her seventh birthday? Why weren't those experiences there? Come to think of it … Sam's eyes swept the living room, where most of her mother and Aunt's picture collection resided. There were no pictures of her young either.

Sam concluded that this possibly meant that Sue was telling the truth. At least it confirmed that her mother was hiding a lot from her, which Sam already knew. But still, it was nice to have things confirmed.

At last, Louise arrived in the living room, carrying a hot cup of tea. She settled herself in the large armchair. She took a deep breath. And then a sip of her tea. Sam was sure it burned her mother's tongue, but Louise just took another long drink.

"Where should I start?" She mused, though more to herself.

"The beginning?" Sam suggested, as sarcastic as she could possibly be.

Louise's flat stare said she didn't appreciate at. Sam, who would usually apologize, just looked away. She was in no mood to be parented right now. She was in the mood for answers. Answers that she probably deserved to have years ago. _Better late than never_, Sam thought.

"Why don't you start with the truth about Wyatt?" Sue suggested.

Sam nodded. Her father was an excellent place to start. Although, she wanted to settle one thing first. "Who's Grace?"

"Grace is your father's mother, your grandmother." Louise admitted. "She lives in Nevada. We lived with her on a ranch called _River Bend_ until you were nine years old."

_River Bend_. Sam savored the name in her mind for a minute, like it was magical place. Then, she began to see if it would tug free a memory she never realized she didn't have. _RiverBendRiverBendRiverBend. _ She chanted in her mind. The lone neigh of a horse resounded within her brain, before slipping away.

"Lived with her?" Sam suddenly blurted. "But you said my father's family never saw me."

"None of what I told you about your father was true, Sam. Except for the fact we got married. I married Wyatt Forster in the summer time. I moved with him to Nevada. That man was a true cowboy. He ran his ranch, raised his cattle, had a collection of working saddle horses. I fell in love with Nevada as much as I fell in love with him.

"He was as happy as I was, maybe even happier, when I discovered I was pregnant. He was ecstatic. And when you were born, and he found out you were a girl . . . I swear I was jealous, because I knew he could never love me as much as he loved you the first time he held you. I wanted to name you _Ashley_. Wyatt though, dug in his heels. _'Not a cowgirl name'_ he protested. He then proceeded to name you Samantha. He was never one for a lot of words, your father, but the day you were born, no one could get him to be quiet. He talked endlessly about you. And wondered how long it would be until you could finally get up on a horse.

"You grew up. You finally got on that horse, totally fearless; you did your ranch chores, mostly without complaint. One day when you were nine, you went with your Dad to Darton, the town, to pick up some things for Grace. The truck was hit by a drunk driver on the way back. Your father was killed instantly. You were trapped inside for an hour, waiting for someone to drive by and realize what had happened. Those roads are awfully empty most of the time.

"You were fully conscious when you were discovered, but one of the firemen getting you out was an amateur. Somehow, part of the car collapsed on you, putting you in a coma. When you woke up, you screamed and cried about the accident. You stopped eating, became violent. The therapist worked with you, but she ended up getting you to repress the memories instead of working through them. The doctors said to leave the memories where they were, to give you a new start."

Sam clasped her hands tightly together. She started at her fingers she they started to go white from lack of blood. "That means . . ." She slowly digested more of what her mother said and started again, "That means the face in my nightmares, the one covered in blood . . ."

"Is your father, yes."

"And what about Jake?" Sam asked, recalling the face of the boy she'd seen that afternoon. And his words _'we grew up together'_. She'd dismissed him as creepy, but was he right?

"Jake Ely. He grew up on the ranch neighboring ours. _Three Ponies_. He was often over at the _River Bend_. Maxine, his mother, and I were great friends. _River Bend_ was sold to the Ely's after we moved. He was your best friend, Sam. I hardly ever seen one of you without the other." Louise's eyes were lost in a memory as she added, "Although, after you met Jennifer Kenworthy at school, he became quite jealous."

Sam took in a deep breath. What did she do now? She had her answers, or at least, the answers to the questions she had right now. Where did she go from here? She trailed her thoughts over her memories again, using the names she had recently learned._ Jennifer Kenworthy. Jake Ely. River Bend. Three Ponies._

Sue, who had been quiet, suddenly spoke, her words an order. "Show her the video."


	4. When You Wake You Shall Have

"Video?" Sam looked at Sue. "What video? What's on it?"

"It was just a home movie," Louise said. "And I can't give it to you."

Sam turned, eyes narrowed at her mother. "Why not?"

"Yeah." Sue echoed. "Why not?"

"Because it's with Grace. All the pictures and movies are with Grace." Louise noticed the look on Sam's face. "Listen, Sam, I'm not trying to be the bad guy here, really, I'm not. I was just trying to protect you."

Sam just stared. She didn't know what to say right now. "I'm going to bed," she told them. She then wandered into her room, closing the door softly. She locked it to make sure she had ultimate privacy.

Slowly, she lay down on her bed, not even bothering to change into pajamas. She pulled her blankets over her body. She then curled herself up into a ball, bringing her knees to her chest. Then, Sam simply stared into the darkness. Outside, she heard faint noises of the city. This was her home. This was where she had lived her whole life, with a mother who didn't lie to her, and the knowledge of a father that had abandoned her.

She would never look at the city, the apartment, her mother, the same again. She would never look at herself the same way again. She had been loved by her father. Her father had known her. He had held her and smiled at her. She was Wyatt Forster's daughter. And she had been there when he died. That was what stuck in her mind the most. She had watched her father die, and because of it, her mind had decided to forget him, her entire past.

Sam closed her eyes. She almost didn't want to think of it anymore. It was good to know, but she was feeling stressed from trying to absorb it. Her father, her mother's lies, the accident she'd been in, growing up in Nevada, the Jake person, the Jen person Louise had mentioned, finding Grace Forster's number. She no longer felt any stability in her once solid life. Sam took a deep breath, trying to calm herself into falling asleep. She made one resolve though; she was going to the diner after school, even though she wasn't working until Wednesday. She had to know if that Jake guy would come back.

That decision put her mind at ease enough that she was able to fall asleep.

_She rolled, hitting something hard. She let out a moan, opening her eyes. The ceiling was high above her. She sat up, looking around. A horse was right next to her. Its large eyes were watching her. The horse made a noise. She reached toward it, to touch its soft neck. She smiled_.

Sam's eyes shot open as her alarm clock went off. The image of the horse stayed in her mind. She had never been around a horse that she could remember. This must be a memory from the life Aunt Sue and Louise and told her about last night. The life in Nevada. Where she had a father and a barn and chores and … Sam cut off her train of thought. Nevada and San Francisco were extremely different, but since they both existed, they were both her lives. Not separate ones. Even if she couldn't remember Nevada, it was still hers.

Right?

Sam rubbed her head. This was just too much to process. She threw her legs out of bed, and headed for a shower. She hated waking up at 7:30. It was just too early to be awake. Stupid school. Like she had nothing better to do with her day than sit through algebra, which she hated. And didn't get at all. And neither did Pam. What Sam really needed was a super smart friend that could help her with algebra, and pretty much every other subject.

Sam walked into school, and was pounced upon by Pam.

"Why didn't you text me last night?" Pam demanded. "I messaged you like a bazillion times. I couldn't get the answer to number two."

"Number two?" Sam looked at her. "Did we have homework?"

"Uh, yeah. Mr. Tyler gave us the sheet of questions for homework."

"Oh." Sam shrugged, heading toward her first period class in order to ditch her bag. "I completely forgot about it. I'll just leave it.

"Why not just do it now? We can work on question two together," Pam suggested brightly.

"I don't want to do any math." Sam snapped, "okay? So just forget about my homework."

"Jeez, down girl." Pam said, "No need to bite my head off."

"Sorry," Sam slunk down into the nearest chair. "I just had a really hard night last night."

"Oh," Pam was instantly sympathetic. "What happened?"

"I'd rather not talk about it. I still need time to process it."

"Okay, but I'm here for you, whatever you need."

"Thanks," Sam managed a small smile for her best friend. "That means a lot."

Sam barely said a word all day. She answered when she was talked too, but, for the most part, she didn't say anything. She just stayed locked in her mind, mulling over last night. And anticipating the afternoon. What was she going to do? What was she going to say to him? _'Sorry I was a total freak but I didn't know you existed until last night'_? Yeah … No.

She could wait to worry. She could decide not to worry. Could be people do that? Just decide _not _to worry and have it work? Sam took a deep breath. There was half an hour left of school, and she needed to calm down.

_Okay, Sam, listen to me. You are who you are. No matter what you found out last night, you are still the same person. And talking to Jake will be like talking to any other person. He's not a weird alien species. He's just a guy. And you will just talk. About whatever he feels like. Maybe it will be about what you learned last night. But just take a deep breath. Because he's just a guy, it's just a conversation, and it's just you._

Sam took comfort from the last thought. It was just her. Nothing would change that. With a confidence Sam never knew she possessed, she left school. She walked to the diner at a quick pace despite her heavy bag. A quick scan of the diner showed that there was no Jake. Feeling slightly deflated, Sam took a stool at the counter.

"Hey there," she glanced up to see Derek looking down at her. "You're not working today."

Sam smirked slightly. "I know."

"And it's the only day you're on time," Derek added.

"I've never been late before!" Sam protested. "I just get here at the last second."

Derek smiled, with a slight nod. "Sure, sure. Well, since I am working, what can I get you?"

"Coffee." Sam said.

"No way. Twelve year olds aren't allowed coffee. Not on my watch." He was shaking his head.

"I'm not twelve. You know it. I know it. So give me some coffee."

"I would hope you know your own age," Derek smirked, "which is a grand total of eleven."

"How did I lose a year?" Sam asked, then "never mind. Just give me a strawberry milkshake."

"Good choice," Derek nodded his approval.

"Like I had a choice!" Sam complained, but it was to empty air. Derek had already gone to make her milkshake.

Sam glanced over her shoulder. Jake wasn't here. There was a couple hidden in a back booth, an old man with his coffee in the front and a college student whose table was piled high with books. With a sigh, Sam dug out her own books. Since she had paid zero attention in class today, she could at least make up for it by studying her notes. She pulled out her science notebook and flipped to the notes she didn't remember copying from that morning.

Derek set her milkshake down, but she didn't even look up. He knew better than to try to talk to her now that she was studying. They had enough students flock to the diner for study time. If you tried to talk to a studying person, more often than not, you got your head bitten off, an order screamed at you and no tip whatsoever. Sam attempted to immerse herself in her notes, but it wasn't working. School just wasn't that interesting.

And she kept trying to keep herself from looking for Jake.

She had wanted to talk to him while she still felt that confidence she'd had when she left school. That confidence was gone now. First, it had deflated when Jake wasn't here already. And then Derek had completely popped it by denying her coffee. She was sixteen years old, and her co-worker wouldn't even sell her a coffee! She had coffee all the time! Mom made a pot every morning.

Sam sucked down the rest of her milkshake and signaled Derek for another. She turned for her bag, ready to tuck science away, but someone's leg was in the way. Someone had taken the seat next to her without her noticing. Maybe she _had_ become immersed in her science notes at some point.

Awkwardly, she straightened. She returned her notebook to the counter in front of her. Sam ducked her head, peering through her hair to get a peek at the stranger who was in her way. Dark hands wrapped around a coffee mug that was handed to him by Derek. Sam looked higher still. The long dark hair and dark features looked familiar. It was Jake. The guy she had come here to see. To talk to. To confirm what Louise and Sue had told her last night.

She kept looking at his features. Had she once known him? Had she once seen this face every day? Had she once known it by heart? Had he made her smile? Had he made her mad? Was he her best friend, like Louise had said? Sam just didn't know. And it was making her so frustrated not to know. This feeling was boiling up inside her. She felt like she was going crazy. She had this whole other world that was lost to her, and now that she knew about it, she wanted to know all the secrets that came with it.

"You ever gonna talk to me, Brat?" Jake asked, his voice low.

Sam knew he was talking to her. She straightened up, letting her hair fall away from her face. "Why do you call me Brat?"

Jake shrugged, taking a long drink of his coffee. "Always have."

"But why?"

"'Cause you were young an' a brat. Why are you asking?"

"Because I want to know," Sam replied, fiddling with her milkshake straw.

"Shouldn't you know?"

Sam shook her head. "I don't know anything."

"You were never that stupid, Sam. Did some pretty stupid things, but …" he let his sentence hang.

Sam bit her lip, feeling awkward. Apparently, Louise had never bothered to explain her condition to anyone else either. It made her wonder if Grace, her grandmother, knew that Sam didn't know. Or if Louise had become that much of a liar that she couldn't even tell her husband's mother what was going on.

She took a deep breath, and decided to just tell Jake. Maybe if she told him, she would be able to confide in Pam as well. "You know the accident I got in with my Dad?" Sam was proud of herself. She didn't even stumble over the word 'Dad'. It felt natural, it felt right.

"Course," Jake grunted. "Worst day of my life."

Sam was surprised by his honesty. It also led her to a lot more questions. How close where she and Jake exactly, if the accident was the worst day of his life?

"Well, something happened to me in that accident."

Jake nodded again. "Mom told me about it. You broke a lot of bones."

Sam's eyebrows raised. Mom had only mentioned her mental break, no physical breaks. "I'm not talking about that."

Jake gave her a look, conveying more than words could.

"I lost my memory. I have no idea who you are."


	5. All The Pretty Ponies

"Oh." Jake said.

Sam sat and waited patiently for the rest of what he had to say. Surely, he would question her about her mind. About why she came back to talk to him. If she even knew who he was supposed to be to her. She kept fiddling with her milkshake straw, sneaking peeks at him. But Jake never said a word.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" She finally exploded at him.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I don't have anything to say."

"Shouldn't you have questions?" Sam asked.

"Seems to me," Jake said slowly, "You're the one with the questions."

Sam leaned back into her chair, crossing her arms. He was just so frustrating! She couldn't imagine her younger self dealing with anyone like him. But the more she stewed in silence, the more she realized Jake was right. _She_ had the questions. She had come here to talk to him because she had wanted answers. So, Sam turned to him and told him everything about last night. Down to every word and feeling.

And when she was finished, he still didn't say a single word.

"And I … I just don't know what to think. Everything is just a lie, like my whole life. Mom has lied to me my entire life. It's like I have two lives, one of which I can't remember. Wouldn't that bother you?"

Jake gave a shrug and a grunt.

"It bothers me. Like you, she knew about you. She told me about you. She told me that we were best friends growing up or something. And you obviously know me, or did at some point. And you don't even look slightly familiar to me."

Jake didn't react, but Sam could have sworn she saw the skin tighten around his eyes, like he was upset.

"And there's this whole accident thing. How do I trust my own mind now? It already forgot about a decade of life. It forgot my _father_ for crying out loud! Could you forget your father?"

Jake shook his head.

"Exactly. I mean, I had a father!" Sam ranted. Then she shook her head. "I'm sorry. I've been over this a million times in my head. I just can't look at it any differently than a betrayal. Do you have any suggestions?"

Jake glanced at her. "I'm not one for suggestions."

"You don't look like an idiot." Sam pinned him down with her eyes, then crossed her arms. "You have to be thinking something! You have to at least have an opinion!"

Jake sighed. "Forgot what you were like," he muttered. But, he said it was so low Sam couldn't even be sure that he said it. "Let's say I have an opinion," he began.

"It's not pretending if you do have an opinion." Sam interrupted. He glanced at her. "Well, you do have one! But, back to the point, what would you do if you were me?"

"Talk to Grace."

"Grace." Sam digested the name for a moment. "My father's mother? My grandmother?"

Jake nodded.

"Wouldn't that be kind of awkward? I mean, I don't remember her. I have no idea what Mom has told her about me. I am not good in awkward situations. I avoid things like that like the plague. If I know something could be awkward or weird or something, I just don't do it."

Sam would have gone on, but Jake shifted, and she went quiet. She had already picked up on how his body language changed when he was about to say something. Or maybe, she had already known. Maybe, it was her remembering how his body language changed. Sam stopped her train of thought. A lot had happened since the last time they had probably seen each other. It was just her picking up on things.

"You came here to talk to me." Jake pointed out.

"That was different!" Sam protested.

Instead of actually asking the question, Jake raised his eyebrows at her.

"Well, it was! Mom knew you, I knew you from yesterday, and you already seemed to know me. And, I figured that if anyone was going to understand, it might be you because you knew me before San Francisco back when I was still in," Sam hesitated, "Nevada. So, I just thought that maybe you'd get it, even though I don't get it. I don't even know what _it_ is. Am I supposed to know?"

"Grace." Jake repeated.

"What am I supposed to do? Call her up and say 'hi, this is the granddaughter you haven't seen in seven years. I'm not entirely sure who you are but I would like to know'?" Sam gestured wildly.

Jake nodded.

"What? You actually think that is a good idea?" Sam couldn't help but be completely baffled by him.

"I know Grace. She has been waiting for that call for seven years." Jake said softly.

"I just don't know what I would say." Sam hung her head in defeat. "I want to know, I want to understand, but, how can I when I don't know where to start?" She felt like crying. Everything was just so overwhelming but she couldn't slow down on her headlong rush into this unknown past. She had to keep going, to jump in, because she had to know everything. How could she figure out who she was now without knowing who she was then?

Jake grabbed the pen from her science binder, and then scribbled an address on the front of it. "Mail her a letter."

"Where _have_ you been?" Louise demanded as soon as Sam stepped inside the door.

"Out." Sam headed for her bedroom, eager to drop off her heavy school bag.

Louise swung into her path. "Out where? You're grounded. "

"No, I'm not." Sam glared at her mother. "I didn't do anything wrong. That was _you_."

"How many times do we have to go through this, Sam? I was just trying to protect you."

Sam shook her head tiredly. She had been over the events of her mother's lie too many times today to want to rehash it now, with the very person she least wanted to be with. She was already regretting leaving the restaurant. She had about seven comfort milkshakes, talked with Jake for about two more hours and she had written that letter to Grace. At least, a rough draft of it. It had been a part stressful, part therapeutic afternoon. It had been nice.

"Tell yourself that all you want," she said, and then pushed past Louise.

Her room had never looked so inviting. Even the boring brown of her walls seemed welcoming. Her bed was freshly made, probably because of Sue. Her carpet was thick and squashy. Her little patched and faded plush horse sat serenely on her pillows. She locked the door behind her, dropping her bag by the desk. She pulled out the letter to Grace, and then sprawled out on her bed.

"Jingles," she said to the horse, "you probably know what's going on more than I do." It was more than likely true. This little horse had probably sat on her child's bed in Nevada, had watched the girl she didn't know grow up.

She flipped onto her stomach, laying out the first draft of her letter. She wasn't sure about it, mostly because she had written it with Jake breathing down her neck. She still wasn't sure how she felt about Jake. Her first impression of him, that he was incredibly sexy, still stood. However, the more she had sat with the why-should-I-speak-when-I-can-use-a-facial-expression-because-I'm-from-Nevada-and-too-cowby-to-use-words man the more her opinions became more convoluted. At first, he was creepy with the whole 'we grew up together' bit and then he became her savior with all of the answers she thought he had and then he was annoying and then, somehow, he had become some kind of therapist.

Sam sighed.

She really hated her mother right now.

"Well, Jingles," the thought she that had gone completely insane crossed her mind. She had talked to herself before, but she had never talked to a stuffed animal, "No point in worrying about it now." She picked up a pen, twirling it in her fingers, before turning to her letter.

_Dear Grace,_

_ I am Samantha Forster. That is, I'm your granddaughter. I know that we haven't had any contact for years. I don't know how much contact you have had with my mother, or what you know of my condition, but I lost my memory when I was nine years old. I sincerely apologize, but I don't remember you at all._

_ My mother hid my Nevada life from me. I only recently discovered it when Jake Ely recognized me in the diner I worked at and I found your phone number in my mother's room. I confronted Mom about it, and she finally admitted the truth about my father. She had always told me that my father had knocked her up and run off. I had no idea that I had a family out there, you, that wanted to know me. Aside from the basic facts; that I was born in Nevada, that you are my grandmother, that my father is dead and that I repressed all my memories, I don't know anything about you._

_ I was hoping to change that. I would really like to know you, my grandmother, and more about my father, which I, sadly, don't remember. You don't have to reply to this letter if you don't want too, but I hope that you will. I understand that it might be upsetting for you, or awkward, depending on what went on between you and my mother, but please know that I am waiting for your reply._

_ Sincerely,_

_ Sam._

It seemed much too stiff and formal for Sam. She had wrestled with a long time over how to address the letter. Grandmother seemed odd, Grandma too familiar. In the end, she had gone with Grace. After three hours and many changes, Sam reviewed the final letter. Much better.

_Dear Grace,_

_ This is Sam, your granddaughter. I'm sorry to contact you out of the blue, but I just learned that you existed. I don't know what Mom has told you about me, but after the accident, I lost my memory. I lost my entire life. Mom hid my life from me, which I am extremely upset over._

_ She told me that my father had knocked her up and left. She also said that his family didn't want to see me. It was through remeeting Jake Ely that I discovered that Mom had secrets. I also found your phone number. I thought about calling you, but I didn't know what I would say._

_ I hope to get to know you better, and that you want to know me. I want to know more of my past and my father, which Mom refuses to talk about. You don't have to reply to this letter if you don't want to, but I really hope you do._

_ Awaiting your reply,_

_ Sam._

It wasn't the best letter in the world, but it would have to do. She still felt a little awkward about the whole thing. She couldn't even picture Grace. Was she a tall, elegant grandmother? Was she little and plump? Was she unhappy or was she happy? Did she do the grandmotherly things like bake cookies and listen to everything her grandchildren said?

Another thought occurred to Sam. Did Grace have other grandchildren? Did her father have siblings? Did she have aunts and uncles and cousins? How much family did her father have? Was there a grandfather waiting to know her? She mulled over these thoughts as she snuck out the front door to mail her letter.

She would have to ask Jake. She hated that Jake knew more about her life, and what should have been her life, than she did. Not that she hated Jake. Despite her ever changing thoughts of him, she was fully confident that she could trust him; that he would always be there for her. She knew they were instincts, bred from years of laughter and friendship that she no longer remembered.

She whispered a small prayer of hope as she dropped the letter in the mailbox.

**Enjoy. Please review!**

**~TLL~**


	6. In Your Bed

Sam returned to her bedroom. On her bed, was Pam.

"Hey, chick." Pam greeted.

"'Sup?" Sam jerked her head, feeling her eyelids droop with emotional exhaustion.

"That's what I was going to ask you." Pam crossed her arms. "What's going on? You've been totally absent from everything."

"It's nothing." Sam brushed it off. It's not that she didn't trust Pam; it was that Pam was never the most sensitive human being and she doubted Pam would understand at all.

"No it's not. My best friend is in some kind of severe emotional pain and she's not letting me help her!" Pam glared.

"There's nothing you can do, Pam." Sam insisted. "So just leave me alone, okay?"

"No. I'm your best friend and I'm not going away that easily!" Pam stood up and used her height advantage over Sam to prove her point. "I'm here to help you."

"There is _nothing_ for you to help me with." Sam glared, backing away from Pam. "You can't help me with anything." A sour taste entered her mouth. Pam had said that Sam was her best friend. But was Pam hers? Could she truthfully say anything anymore without knowing the detail of her past? Ugh! Sam wanted to tear her own hair out.

"Of course not!" Pam continued, oblivious of Sam's internal frustrations. "Of course I can't tell you because you will not tell me anything! I'm only here because I want to be your friend but you aren't letting me!"

"Maybe I don't want your help!" Sam screeched. "Maybe I just want to be left alone! Maybe I don't want to put up with you butting into every aspect of my life, pushing and bullying me just so you can feel good about helping me with something I really don't need you helping me with!" Sam's chest heaved with her rant, tears pooled in her eyes. "Now get out."

"Sam –" Pam paused, unsure of what to say now.

"Get out." Sam pointed a finger toward the door.

Pam stayed rooted to the spot.

"I said," Sam hissed between clenched teeth, "get the hell out."

Pam turned away. "Fine. But don't expect me to be around for you." And then she stormed out.

Sam watched her go, and then slammed her bedroom door in frustration. What was wrong with her? Why was she suddenly so angry? Why was she so mean to Pam? Why was she letting her life fall apart because of something that had happened years ago and that she couldn't change? Throwing herself on her bed, Sam buried her head in her pillow and screamed.

And when she was done with that, she cried.

8

Saturday.

Thank god for weekends.

Sam pushed herself into a sitting position. She felt like hell. She had spent the majority of the night howling into a pillow and hating herself. Pam didn't understand. There was no good reason for her to yell at Pam. The only rationale she could think of was that she was under stress. But that wasn't Pam's fault. Pam was just trying to be a friend.

Sam rubbed her hands over her face which fault frozen from the dried tear tracks. She would deal with this later. She would call Pam, or text her, or meet her somewhere. Or something. She put her feet on the floor and launched herself into standing. The head rush set in and Sam collapsed back on her bed.

She really didn't really want to go anywhere. She wanted to stay in bed and cry and sleep. Because honestly, life was too messy to deal with at any point in time. Now was especially worse. Sam reached for her phone to check her messages. But there weren't any. This absence of Pam – who usually texted her over even the most insignificant details – made her morning seem even more sour and wrong.

She sent Pam and text. _Sry about last nite. Meet me my diner 12? My treat._

By the time Sam had talked herself into leaving her room Pam had replied. _K._

Well, at least she wasn't getting the cold shoulder. Sam glanced at her phone clock and her eyes widened. Damn. She had an hour to get ready and get to the diner. Moving quickly, Sam flew back to her room, reaching for the first pair of jeans and t-shirt she saw. She pulled them on over her head while grabbing her hair brush. _Yank, yank_. Hair was good to go. She reached for her purse and darted for the bathroom. Scrub face, brush teeth, head out the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to meet up with Pam." Sam paused in the kitchen, patting her pockets to make sure she had brought her phone.

"Okay," Sue shrugged. "Your mom will be home at three, though. I don't know whether or not she wants you out of the house."

Sam snorted. "Like I could care."

Sue rolled her eyes. "She made a mistake, hon. A horrible, horrible mistake which still doesn't sit right, but she's still your mom. She did it because she loves you."

Sam dipped her head. "Or she was being selfish." And then she walked out.

She felt sort of bad for just storming out on Aunt Sue, before shrugging it off. She had just a few minutes to get to the diner. Luckily, it wasn't far and she skipped in the door before Pam.

"Brat."

Sam spun to face the table and the man sitting at it. "Are you always here?"

Jake chuckled and gestured for her to take the seat across from him.

Sam did. "I'm meeting someone though. I don't have much time to talk."

Jake shrugged.

Sam continued talking to him, as though he was actually talking back. "So, you never answered me. Are you always here?"

Jake raised his eyebrows. "I like it." He answered.

Sam snorted. "Why?"

"The waitresses."

Sam felt a blush rise to her cheeks at his comments. This is one of the things she hated about being a redhead. She wore her emotions on her cheeks. She shook her head so that her longish hair fell in front of her cheeks to hide the pink.

"I see what you mean?" She joked, "Maria is looking pretty fine today."

Jake didn't even glance over to where Sam's co-worker was waiting on a family of four.

"Studying?" She said, pointing out the obvious since he had a textbook sitting in front of him. "May I?" She didn't even wait for an answer – verbal or otherwise – and grabbed for the book. "Native American studies?" She frowned up at him. "I didn't know they actually had a class on this."

"Unfortunately," he muttered.

"Don't want to be in it?" Sam guessed.

"Mom's choice." Jake admitted.

Sam laughed, and then asked, "Are you Native American?"

Jake rolled his eyes. "Shoshone."

"Sam!"

Sam whipped her head around to see Pam there, hands on her hips, jaw set. Sam quickly scrambled to her feet, leaving Jake to his textbook.

"This whole emotional, bitchy fiasco better not be because of a guy!" Pam exclaimed.

"It's not, it's not!" Sam assured her. She grabbed her friend's arm and dragged her into a booth before Pam could put up a fight.

"Then what is going on?" Pam demanded.

"First let me say I'm sorry about last night. I was out of line. Stuff's been going on in my life and you've always been there for me."

"Damn straight." Pam crossed her arms. "So tell me what's going on before I walk out of this diner."

Sam did.

By the end of her tale, Pam was wide-mouthed. "So wait," Pam began her first comment, "that means Hottie McGee over there is your childhood sweetheart?" Pam slid her knees underneath of her to look over the top of the booth at Jake, who was still sipping coffee and going through the Native American textbook. "Well, that explains why I could never set you up with anyone. Your heart was always yearning for him."

Sam grabbed the bottom of Pam's t-shirt and pulled her back down into the booth. "I was nine the last time I saw him, as far as anyone as told me. I'm not in love with him."

"How do you know?"

Sam rolled her eyes. Pam was always the romantic. "So, yeah. That's what's been on my mind."

Pam shook her head. "Wow. That is like, straight out of a novel or something. That doesn't happen in real life."

Sam grimaced. "It does in mine."

Pam was peeking over the top of the top of the booth again. "Does he have any brothers?"

"Really?" Sam let out a laugh. "This is what you're focusing on."

"Sammy," Pam forced Sam to look her in the eye. "That boy is fine. Go for it."

"I barely know him." Sam sighed. "And whenever he looks at me I'm sure he's seeing someone else – a little girl I don't know."

Pam shook her head. "This thing is kind of messed up. But, you like him."

"I do not," Sam denied, scrunching her nose.

"Bull." Pam poked her friends shoulder. "You are attractive."

"Well so is Derek but you don't see me dating him."

"You take Jake. I'll take Derek. We all win!"

Sam laughed. "You are something else."

"I know. That's why we're friends." Pam was eyeing Jake again. "Introduce us?"

Sam slid out of the booth, leading Pam over to Jake. "Jake, this is my friend Pam. Pam, this is Jake."

"Hello." Pam smiled.

"Hi." Jake responded warily.

"Do you have brothers?" Pam asked.

Sam groaned.

"Six."

Pam's eyes bugged and even Sam was shocked. Seven children? What was Jake's mother (Sam paused, trying to recall if Louise had ever mentioned her name before when the name hit her; _Maxine)_ thinking? Sam couldn't even imagine having one.

"And, um, how old are they?" Pam continued.

"I'm the youngest."

Pam pouted slightly. She liked to date her own age, none of this older or younger crap for her, and Jake was already pushing at the age line. "And you're what, twenty?"

"Nineteen." Jake corrected.

"Cool." Pam twisted her hair around her finger.

Sam's eyes widened in horror. Was Pam _flirting_ with Jake? Jake didn't seem to notice; he looked extremely uncomfortable, but the move made Sam's blood boil. Pam couldn't be interested in Jake! She just couldn't! Then Sam realized. She should have realized sooner. She had known Pam for years after all. Pam was trying to make Sam realized she liked Jake after all.

Not that Sam liked Jake. She barely knew him. Even if he did seem to understand everything she said and she did love his eyes and how they seemed to say everything. Even if his inability to say full sentences drove her up the wall and she wanted to smack that knowing smirk off of his face. And every time he called her 'Brat' it made her want to implode.

Staring at Pam giggle and Jake look slightly terrified at this creature she had happened to bring into his life, Sam came a realization. Whether or not she knew Jake inside and out, no matter how he looked at her, she liked him. She _liked_ him. Sounding like a elementary school child in her own head, Sam tried to take back the thoughts.

He was a safe harbor in the muddle that was her life. He was her answers guy. He was someone she could rant too. He was – in her internal summation of Jake, she realized why she would like him. He was a constant. Though she had just met him days ago, there were years between them. From a childhood nickname to an attraction on their first remeeting (and, in this new mind of hers, the first meeting) something had clicked.

Something had clicked for _her_.

He was probably seeing the child he had first called 'Brat'. And she wondered when he had started calling her that. And then she got frustrated at her mental block all over again.

"So, Sam, lunch?" Pam grinned.

"Uh, yeah." Sam nodded, emerging from her own thoughts.

Jake was standing, his textbook clenched in his hand.

He nodded to her and went to walk out.

She grabbed his hand to stop him. "Your cellphone." She sputtered and he looked at her strangely. "I mean, can I have your number?"

He handed her his phone.

**So … It's been awhile. But this story is alive and well, it's just trapped in my mind. I don't own **_**Phantom Stallion**_**. I hope you enjoyed!**

**~TLL~**


	7. Mamma Said

Sam strutted into the apartment building after school the next Friday. As was her habit, she opened the mailbox and flipped through the envelopes in the elevator. Halfway through the ride, her heart stopped. One of them was for her. From Grace Forster. She stumbled out of the elevator in a daze. She had gotten a reply! She knew it was usually what happened when you sent a letter but it still seemed so surreal to her.

After years of not having any family but her mother and Aunt she had a grandmother. She had a grandmother who wanted to write to her. _Maybe even see her!_ The possibilities ran through Sam's mind as she let herself into the apartment. The endless possibilities scared her. Scared her so much, in fact, that her hands were shaking.

Oh my god.

There was so much that could be in this letter. So many different outcomes. This letter could be shutting her out of her past or welcoming her back into it. It could be a gateway to who she really was. Clutching her letter to her chest, Sam wanted nothing more to tear it open, yet, she also wanted to pretend she had never gotten it. She looked down at the envelope, smoothing out the paper. The writing was thin and curly. This was her grandmother's handwriting.

She couldn't open this by herself. She fumbled for her cell phone. "Jake," she tried to keep the irrational panic out of her voice, "can you meet me somewhere?"

"Where?"

"Not the diner." Sam whispered. "Anywhere but the diner."

"You can come to the dorm," he offered.

"Okay." She agreed quickly.

He gave her directions and she was out the door, clinging to her letter like a beloved pet that would kill her.

(-.-)

The dorm room was a lot bigger than she thought it would be. She entered the space hesitantly as Jake ushered her past a small kitchen and a shut door.

"Roommate." He pointed to the closed door. "Avoid him."

"Is the boy from the diner your roommate?" Sam asked Jake.

"Darrell?" Jake shook his head. "He doesn't even go to this university."

"Oh." Sam was quiet as she was lead into Jake's room. It was different than she thought it would be. Neat and tidy, his desk was piled with papers and books where his nightstand dripped with photos.

Sam made herself comfortable on the bed while Jake closed the door. She reached for the photos. "Who are they?" She asked him.

"My parents." Jake glanced at the picture. "Maxine and Luke Ely."

"This one?" Sam reached for another picture.

Jake sighed and sat down next to her. "My brothers. Adam, Kit, Nate, Quinn, Bryan, Seth and me."

Sam studied the photo. "You all look alike." She observed. "Like your dad."

Jake nodded.

"Who's this?" She reached out again for a photo of a horse.

"Witch." For the first time that she could remember, Sam saw a real smile bloom on Jake's face.

"She's yours?" Sam studied the black mare. She could remember, especially during her early teens, craving for a horse of her own. "I'm jealous."

Jake reached passed her. "He's yours."

Sam clutched at the photograph. It was a picture of a white horse. His ears were pricked at whoever was taking the photo and his hair was gleaming like some kind of ghost. _He's yours_. She repeated Jake's words in her head. "I have a horse."

Jake nodded. "Do you remember his name?"

Sam suddenly found the picture too hard to look at. She put it back on the table. "Would you have a picture of my grandmother?" She asked, hoping. Maybe seeing the woman would make reading her words easier.

Jake hesitated.

"And my father?" Sam pressed.

Jake reached to the back of the table and pulled out a frame. "It's old."

But then again, if it had her father in it, it would have to be. Sam sucked in a breath as the frame was laid into her hands. She looked down. People on a porch. There was a little girl, a little boy, a young woman, a young man, an old woman, an old man and a middle aged man. The little girl caught her eye. She was standing up on the porch railing, clutching the little boy who was doing the same thing. "Is that me?" Sam gasped, taking in the long red hair and the pudgy body that couldn't have been more than six.

"Us." Jake corrected. He was the little boy.

"That's my mother." Sam pointed to the young woman on the porch swing, holding hands with the young man. "That means … oh." That young man was her father. Tanned skin, cowboy hat, sleeves rolled up around his elbows and worn out jeans, he was, as Louise had said over a week ago, a cowboy. Sam hungrily scoured his face, trying to find any trace of herself in this man. _Wyatt_, she mind-whispered. But there was nothing. Sam was her mother's child, through and through. She took no features from her father.

Disappointed, she moved on to the two men who were leaning against the house to the right of the swing. "Who is he?" Sam pointed to the middle aged man.

"Ross, a ranch hand. That's –"

"Dallas!" Sam blurted. Then felt her cheeks heat. "I mean, is that his name?"

"Yes," Jake replied slowly. "He's another ranch hand."

Her heart was beating quickly. She had remembered someone's name! Did this mean that the rest of it was on its way back? Would she soon break the mental wall between this teenage self and her childhood self? Would she remember her father, her grandmother, her ranch in Nevada, that white horse that was in the picture? Allowing herself a glance up from the photograph, she looked at Jake. Would she remember him? Would she remember him in his entirety?

Cheeks flaming even more, Sam made herself look at the face of man whose name she had remembered. And tried to just focus on him. But her mind was begging for another glance at Jake. But she couldn't. Because she didn't really know him or their past together and that meant she wasn't falling for him the way she was pretending not too. Because she couldn't like him. No, no, no. With the photograph burning her hands and the letter burning her pocket, she was ashamed to say that all she was thinking of was kissing him.

"So this is my grandmother." Sam said, focusing on the older woman. "Grace." The woman was sweet looking, a little on the heavier side and a wide smile. She put the picture on the pillow and reached for the letter. She smoothed it out over her thigh. "I got a letter from her today," Sam confessed the real reason she had wanted to come see him, "and I couldn't read it alone."

"Go ahead," Jake urged her.

Sam opened the top of envelope and pulled out the single sheet of lined paper.

_My dearest Samantha,_

_ You do not know how long I have waited for this letter to arrive. Not a day goes by that I don't think of you and where you are. I hope that you are happy. I am sorry that your mother kept secrets from you, dear, but I know Louise and I know that she would only want what is best for you. As do I. But I am delighted to hear from you and I do love you._

_ I am very sorry about your memory and I hope it returns swiftly. My memory has not been so good as of late, but that is just one of those things that go with age, I suppose. Not that I like to think of myself as old, I am only sixty-seven, you know. And I'm not too old that I don't still run River Bend like I always have. It belongs to the Ely's now, as Jake may have mentioned to you, but I still take care of my land like I have since it was my parents._

_ I would love to hear from you again,_

_ Your loving grandmother, _

_ Grace._

Sam's heart felt warm. So did her cheeks after the tears dripped from her eyes.

"You okay?" Jake's voice lapped over her ears.

"She sounds like she loves me." Sam's throat felt thick.

Jake shifted closer and Sam was aware of just how near he was. His body heat was mingling with hers and, she admitted, she wanted to feel his lips against hers. "She does." Jake told her. Was it just Sam's imagination or did his voice become more sultry?

"I've just never had a grandmother before." Sam wished she could take back the words as soon as they were out. Of course she'd had a grandmother before.

"You did." Jake told her. "You just don't remember her." His voice sounded so broken as he recalled her lack of memory.

"I wish I did." The tears kept falling, and falling and Sam just couldn't figure out why. "I hate this so much. I should know her." Without thinking, she threw her arms around Jake's neck and buried her head in his shoulder. She felt his muscles tense underneath her before his arms circled her waist. "I hate my mom." It was the first time she had ever uttered the words with such hatred and sincerity.

Jake didn't reply. She felt him heave a sigh underneath her and titled her face up to look at him. Feeling her move, he looked back down. Sam met his eyes and felt her heart twist. Why did she have to like him? This great friend who she had met almost two weeks ago and she liked him. Subconsciously, she pushed herself into his body more and, in return, his grip tightened.

_Don't do it._ The thought flitted through Sam's mind. She had only just met him. She was still convinced that he was seeing her from when she was younger than the her she had known all of her life. And she couldn't risk losing, not only a great friend, but a link to her past. The only like that she could talk freely too and rely on and –

In the middle of having her mind deliberate, her heart went for it.

The next thing she knew his lips were on hers and they were holding each other so tight Sam didn't think she could breathe. But then feeling how his lips move on hers, she didn't think she could have breathed anyway. One of his hands slid up her spine, giving her chills. She put both hands to the back of his head, feeling the strands that weren't as coarse as she'd imagined.

At the same moment they both dropped away for breath. Her head went back to his shoulder. She couldn't look him in the eye right now. She didn't know what had come over her. But she was hoping, judging by how he had kissed her back, that he had wanted it just as much. And that, like her, he wanted to do it again.

"Brat," Jake spoke in her ear, making Sam jump.

"Jake." She responded.

"Wanna get some dinner?" He asked.

"Like a date?" Sam wondered to his shoulder.

Jake chuckled. She could feel the vibrations from his stomach into her own stomach and the sensation made her smile. "It _is_ a date." He clarified.

Sam's smile grew. "On one condition," she said, feeling bold.

"Mmm?" He made a noise from the back of his throat.

"Only if you kiss me again."

Jake's hand came up to cup her cheek and she felt dwarfed by how large his palm was. Her head lifted, guided by his sure hands. Once she was looking into his brown eyes that had no end, he placed his other hand on her other cheek so that she was framed by his long, dark fingers. Sam felt her stomach tense with anticipation as he took an infinite amount of time to give her the kiss she needed.

**Didn't plan on them to get together this quickly but it just seemed right. Thoughts on the chapter?**

**~TLL~**


	8. Baby's Riding Off To Dreamland

Sam skipped into the apartment at nine. She was on cloud nine. Jake had taken her out for a burger and onion rings. He had held her hand almost all night and he kept kissing her! And her grandmother wanted to write to her! If it weren't for the fight with Louise, Sam would say that her life was as perfect as possible right now.

"You're late." Louise's voiced stopped Sam in her tracks.

"My curfew is ten." Sam argued. "I'm technically early."

"You didn't tell either Sue or me where you were going," Louise continued as though Sam had never spoken. "We have been worried sick."

"You could have texted me." Sam said.

"You should have told us first." Louise snapped. "Where have you been?"

"With Jake." Sam answered, honestly.

"Let the boy go, Sam." Louise said tiredly.

"Let him go?" Sam repeated. "What do you mean by that?"

"You are using him as a vessel to your past and you need to stop."

"Stop what?" Outrage was building in Sam's veins. Louise couldn't possibly be suggesting that Sam ignore her first nine years of life? "Trying to remember?"

"Yes." Louise relaxed, proud her daughter had come to that conclusion so quickly. "The accident almost destroyed you the first time and I won't let you explore your past only so it can break you."

"I deserve to know. I deserve to be allowed to talk to Jake, to discover my past and write my grandmother!"

Louise's face paled. "You've been in contact with Grace?"

"I wrote her a letter about a week ago," Sam knew it was wrong, but she was enjoying the look of horror on her mother's face. "She just replied today."

"I forbid contact!" Louise screeched. "I forbid contact with Grace and Jake and anything else you might come up with."

"Don't you dare try," Sam threatened. "Or I swear I will walk out the door and I will not come back."

Louise looked as though she had been slapped. "What happened to my daughter?"

As she walked away, Sam responded, "what happened to my mother?"

Entering her room, Sam screamed into her pillow. What was wrong with Louise? Why was all of this so threatening to her? To distract herself, Sam penned another letter to Grace, telling her grandmother about Pam and her grades and what it was like to work in the diner. She would put it in the mailbox in the morning. When the letter was finished, she promptly fell asleep, unaware that Louise had been crying the entire time.

(-.-)

"Where are you going?" Louise's voice was shrill the next morning when Sam stepped out into the kitchen.

"I have a basketball game at noon," Sam reminded her, not wasting any words. "And after that I'm staying the night at Pam's."

"When will you be back?"

"Tomorrow." Sam sighed. "Otherwise I'll call you."

"There will be no calling," Louise snapped. "You will be home by three-thirty tomorrow afternoon."

"Samantha, do you want to go to the game or Pam's at all?"

"I am not your prisoner!" Sam screeched.

"Louise," Sue broke in, coming into the kitchen after being attracted by the noise, "perhaps you are being a bit harsh."

"She's looking into things she doesn't understand." Louise narrowed her eyes at her sister. "Things you don't understand either."

"She's leaving." Sam rolled her eyes. Before trudging out the door.

After Sam was out of earshot, Sue took a seat across from Louise. "I was there in the hospital. I was there for you during Wyatt's funeral. I was in the doorway for all these years as you held Sam and sang to her during the nightmares. I heard what the doctors said about her. Don't you dare say that I don't understand."

Louise's face became pinched. "She's not your daughter. You don't have children. You don't understand that all-consuming love; a love that says you will die for her if need be. I won't let my years of sacrifice, of lying about my true love, disappear as she flings herself back into that state."

Sue's jaw set. "I may not have children of my own but Sam might as well be my daughter. It's true I wasn't there much while you were in Nevada but when you came here, I was there for her when you weren't. When you were locked up in your room with pictures of Wyatt and crying from grief, I was with Sam. While you were wrapped up in your loss, I was with this little girl who had no past, no memories. I was helping her become who she is now. I may not have given birth to her, but I am as much a part of her as you are."

"But you didn't give birth to her! You are just her aunt. You have no place in this feud between mother and daughter."

Sue looked down at the table. Louise hadn't heard a word she had said. More importantly, Louise hadn't even tried to hear what she had to say. Her sister never used to be like this. Her sister used to be kind and caring with a heart of gold, willing to give anything to anyone. After the accident, Louise had changed in a way that Sue didn't understand, and, in a way, she admitted, that she disliked. She just didn't know what to do anymore.

"There doesn't have to be a feud." Sue whispered. "You could help her."

"That is the worst idea you've ever had." Louise scoffed.

Sue drooped.

(-.-)

"I feel so gross," Sam was breathing heavily as she weaved into one of the shower stalls.

"Yeah, but you played great!" Pam was equally sweaty, but somehow, still energetic.

"You did too." Sam returned.

"We all played great!" Sarah exclaimed, racing Pam for the last available shower stall. Pam, with her longer legs, beat her easily.

"Which is why wo-on!" Pam sang. "Victory pizza?"

There were a few vague 'uhhhs' from the girls.

"Think about it." Pam replied.

Sam shampooed her hair, concentrating on nothing but the warm water sliding over her body. At least, that was all she was thinking about until Sarah spoke again.

"Did anyone see that hot dark-skinned dude watching us?"

"What dude?" Melanie asked.

"Oh, you know. That one with the super long hair." Sarah replied, switching showers with Annie.

Sam almost inhaled shampoo bubbles.

"Wait," Pam said, "tall, lanky, kind of awkward looking but with a jaw that could cut glass?"

"Yes! That's him exactly."

"Oh," Pam said matter of factly, "that's Sam's boyfriend."

"You have a boyfriend?" Half of the team asked at once.

Sam cringed behind her shower curtain. She hadn't had time to even tell Pam anything official about Jake. For all her best friend knew, she and Jake were best friends. "Sorta," Sam mumbled, knowing the girls were waiting for a reply.

"How do you have a sorta boyfriend?" Sarah demanded.

"I would give anything for any kind of boyfriend," Melanie snorted.

"Well," Sam drug out the word reluctantly. Jake still seemed kind of private. Like a sweet, wonderful dream. "He hasn't asked or anything yet."

"Have you seen his penis?"

Sam's jaw dropped.

"Annie!" Pam scolded the other girl for Sam, who was still too shocked to move, even though conditioner was creeping toward her open mouth.

"I have not seen his penis," Sam screeched, voice way too high.

"Shame," Annie said, "He looked like he would have a big one."

Sam suddenly had the slight urge to viciously attack her teammate and drown her in one of the nearby toilets. Instead, she stepped calmly out of the shower, wrapped herself in her towel and went to her locker.

"So, that pizza?" Pam insisted.

Everyone but Sam shook their heads.

"Killjoys," Pam sighed. "Already, Sammy, just you and me."

"Awesome."

As Pam passed Sam to go and plug in her hairdryer, she leaned over and whispered in Sam's ear, "and I want details on Jake. You've been smiling like the cat who ate the canary all day."

"What kind of expression is that?" Sam asked.

"I dunno." Pam shrugged and yelled over the hairdryer, "Mom says it all the time."

"Figures," Sam murmured. Mora was always one for odd expressions, which Sam always found strange considering she was scientist by profession.

The dressing room slowly emptied until it was just Sam, who had put her wet hair in braid, waiting on Pam to dry her hair.

"Hey," Pam said, "if Jake is still out there, you can bring him along for pizza too."

"You don't have to do that." Sam insisted. "I don't want to be one of those girls who can't hang out without her boyfriend there."

"So he is your boyfriend?" Pam cocked an eyebrow. "And I don't mind. We've got all night. And tomorrow. Despite your mom's stupid curfew."

"He hasn't asked." Sam stared down at her shoes. She could already feel herself blushing and it was easier if she wasn't looking Pam in the eye. "But he took me out last night. And we've been kissing."

"Aw." Pam made kissy noises in Sam's direction. "Your first official boyfriend!"

"He's not official!" Sam protested. "And I've had boys."

"You had Drew. Drew does not count as a boy. We were fourteen and he was so antisocial and pimply that it was just sad. He held your hand for one day and then got too scared to ever talk to you again."

"What about Jason?" Sam reminded her. "I made out with Jason after the girls vs. boys game."

Pam pondered this. "That was spontaneous. And he had a girlfriend. And you were 'in love'" Pam made air quotes, "with Mason at the time."

"God. Why did I like Mason?"

"We were all a little bit in love with Mason. Too bad he had to go to some fancy boarding school where we can't use him as eye candy."

"Are you dry yet?"

"Quite. Let's go see if your boyfriend waited for you."

"He's not –"

"Your boyfriend. I know. But he will be."

"You say that like it's a fact."

"Isn't it?"

"I hope so."

They stepped out of the change room together, bags over their shoulders. Sure enough, Jake was perched on one of the bleachers. He looked like a total fish out of water in the high school gym.

"Whatcha doin' here?" Sam attracted his attention.

Jake's hand went to the back of his neck. "You, uh, mentioned a basketball game last night."

"It was sweet of you to come." The closer they got to each other, the more nervous and awkward Sam felt. She shouldn't have worried though, he took her hand the moment he was able, despite Pam's presence. "We're going to get pizza. Wanna join us?"

Jake nodded. "Wanna take my truck?"

"That sounds so much better than walking!" Pam gushed.

"Gotta get Darrell though." Jake added.

"Is he cute?" Pam asked.

Jake looked mortified that she would even ask him that question.

"He's a five or six." Sam answered.

Pam mulled it over. "Meh. If he's here for college he's too old for me anyway."

Sam grinned. "You're seventeen in two weeks. He's probably like, what, eighteen?"

Jake shrugged. He couldn't have been vaguer if he had tried.

"So it's really not that big of a difference." Sam finished her sentence without any help with him.

"Still," Pam licked her lips, "he's a college boys. I'll get to them soon enough."

They piled into the truck. Jake took them to a campus different than his own. They were barely on the grounds before Darrell was throwing open the back door.

"I hate this school. I hate these people. I hate the teachers. I hate the courses and – " He noticed Pam. "You're kinda cute."

Pam rolled his eyes. "Wow. I've never felt more awesome about myself than in this moment."

Sam snickered.

Darrell leaned between the two front seats and stared at Sam. "So." He stated, his breath washing over her face.

"So?" Sam replied.

"So you're the girl I've spent majority of my time with Jake hearing about." Darrell paused and added, "when he decides to talk."

"Pizza?" Jake interrupted.

"Pizza!" Pam cheered.

**I don't own **_**Phantom Stallion.**_** What interesting conversations shall come up at the pizza parlor? Hmm. We shall have to see!**

**~TLL~**


	9. One By One

"And all I'm saying is that Legos should be more relevant to the universe." Darrell reached for his coke. "We could probably build another Earth with those things."

"That," Pam rolled her eyes, "is impossible."

"Not with the right kind of Lego."

Sam sniggered. Darrell and Pam hadn't stopped talking for a moment since they'd gotten started. Once they had both found out that their opinions differenced on pretty much everything they had been throwing their beliefs in each other's faces left and right. No matter how odd the opinion was. Sam and Jake were happy to let them speak. _"Dinner and a show_," Jake had quipped as they had walked into the pizza place.

"Salmon is an irrelevant fish." Pam released the Lego conversation.

"Tuna is an irrelevant fish," Darrell corrected. "Why do you need a chicken of the sea if you already have a chicken of the earth?"

"Chicken and tuna have nothing to do with each other," Pam scoffed. "They don't even taste the same!"

"If that's true why is it called the chicken of the sea?" Darrell raised an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

"Maybe because they are found in abundance?" Pam rolled her eyes. "I have no idea."

"So why are you talking about a subject you know nothing about?"

"Why are you so infuriating?"

"Why are _you_ so infuriating?"

"Don't copy me."

"_Don't copy me._"

"I'll shoot you."

"Jennifer Kenworthy is scarier than you." Darrell snorted.

"Who is Jennifer Kenworthy?" Pam questioned.

At the name, Sam thrust her head into her hands. A blinding pain had erupted on the left side of her skull. As she clutched her head, the first conversation she'd had with Louise about her lack of past came rushing back to her. _"Although, after you met Jennifer Kenworthy at school, he became quite jealous." _Her mother had said that. Her mother had mentioned Jennifer Kenworthy. _"After you met Jennifer Kenworthy at school"_. Had she and this Jennifer Kenworthy been friends? They would have had to have been if Jake – her best friend at the time – had gotten jealous over Jennifer Kenworthy.

"Sam." Jake's voice was close to her ear. "Are you okay?"

She couldn't reply. The name kept going through her head like a broken record._ Jennifer Kenworthy. Jennifer Kenworthy. Jennifer Kenworthy._ The name pushed and battled against her mental block despite how Sam fought to stop it. This wasn't an easy remembering as with Dallas's name. This was a fighting remembering. She didn't want to remember anymore! Sam thought desperately. If it hurt this much than other people could fill her in on the freaking details. She didn't want to know! _Oh God._ She cried out in her head. The pain was spreading all around her head.

"Is she all right?" Pam's voice sounded like it was coming from very far away.

"Jennifer Kenworthy is … blonde." Sam choked out the words. She didn't know how they got from her mind to her tongue since she couldn't remember thinking them. "She has glasses. And all of her horses are yellow."

The moment the last word fell from her tongue Sam felt the pain subside. She drooped down in the seat, keeping her eyes covered with her hands. Some deep rooted instinct was telling her the light would only make her throw up right now.

"Are you okay?" Pam asked.

"You look a little green," Darrell observed.

Jake's arms went around her, pulling her into his shoulder. As she felt his stability against her, Sam realized she was shaking.

"Do you remember anything else?" Jake whispered.

"No." Sam replied, and felt awful about it. She couldn't remember her father, her grandmother or Jake. People she never should have forgotten were long gone. "I'm sorry."

"Don't." Jake ordered.

"Was what I said true?" Sam asked him.

"Yes." Jake said.

"Except," Darrell corrected him, "she's got contacts now."

Sam pulled away from Jake and experimented with opening her eyes. It wasn't as bad as she thought. "Did I know you?" She asked him. "In Nevada."

Darrell shook his head. "I'm not Nevada born and bred. I didn't move there until I was twelve."

"Oh." Sam said softly. Well, at least she wouldn't have to worry about upsetting Darrell by not remembering him. It might explain why he hadn't found her the least bit familiar in the diner. But thinking back on it, it was strange that Jake had found her familiar in the diner. She hadn't seen him since she was nine, after all. She must have changed.

"Yep. Good old New Orleans." Darrell leaned back in the booth, his elbow brushing Pam's head.

"Don't touch me."

"You love it," he grinned at her.

Pam rolled her eyes. "Night or day."

"Night."

"Day!" Pam exclaimed.

"As if!"

And they were back to arguing. Sam was, once again, content to listen to their ever childish arguments. She let Jake hold her in his arms until the pizza came. Well, it was more accurate to say _pizzas_. Darrell and Jake had gotten an extra-large one to split while Pam and Sam had gotten a medium to split. Sam didn't know how much she could eat after the memory thing. It had left her head slightly hurting and her stomach in knots.

"So, Pam," Darrell inhaled a piece of pizza before finishing his sentence, "how would you like to show me around San Francisco?"

"How about I escort you out of my city?"

"So you're an escort now?" Darrell raised his eyebrows.

"You are disgusting." Pam shoved him.

"You just touched something disgusting," Darrell teased her.

"Oh god. Sam," Pam turned to her, panicked. "I need to go to a hospital! Who knows what I've been infected with?"

"I'm not _that_ disgusting." Darrell pouted. "You just hurt my feelings."

"You have feelings?" Pam gasped.

"You wound me, woman." Darrell sighed, as though recognizing defeat. "So, Sam, tell me about yourself."

"I don't know what to say," Sam stammered.

"Like, for example, what is your favourite colour?" Darrell had a look on his face that she had never seen before and Sam wasn't sure if she should trust it.

"Green," Sam replied slowly.

"Your favourite food?" Darrell prompted, that slightly demented smile frozen in place.

"Oranges." She said, just as slowly as before. "What's the point of this?"

"I'm seeing if you've changed since you were nine." Darrell explained.

"You didn't know me when I was nine?" She couldn't help that it came out as a question. She wasn't following him.

"I told you," Darrell finished off his half of the pizza, "Jake talks about you."

Sam couldn't help but slide a little away from Jake. "How much do you talk about me?" She asked. She couldn't imagine it was very much. Jake wasn't a talker. But the fact that Darrell knew enough about her nine-year-old self that he never knew to compare her to the sixteen-year-old self he was meeting was strange.

Jake shrugged.

"Use your words," Sam prompted.

"Some," Jake said. It wasn't exactly_ words_.

"Honestly," Sam pushed again.

"Some," Jake repeated, in a tone that said she would have to be happy with that answer. Sam crossed her arms at him, but he just finished off his pizza.

"Jake," Darrell tapped his foot. "The outing has been fun but we have someone to see."

Jake snorted. "The prince." It was the most sarcastic Sam had ever heard him.

"Who's the prince?" Pam asked before Sam had a chance too.

Darrell snickered. "Jake's best friend."

Jake glowered at him. "You know how I feel about Ryan."

Darrell turned to the girls to give the full explanation. "Ryan's this rich English kid that moved out to Nevada about five years back. His dad controlled, like, everything. He and Jake never got along, mostly because they're polar opposites. Which is why it's strange that they've been spending time together here."

"Do all people in Nevada come to San Francisco?" Pam demanded.

"Nah," Darrell shook his head. "Jake got a scholarship. I got a scholarship. It was logical for us to come here. Ryan isn't here for school. He just decided he wanted to hang out in California with awhile. Although Jake should be thanking Ryan for coming to California."

"Why?" Sam was looking at Jake as though he might explain it himself. But, of course not. Why should Jake talk when Darrell was perfectly capable of being his mouthpiece?

"Because when Ryan came down with Boots he also brought the love of Jake's life."

"Boots?" Pam questioned at the same time Sam went, "love?"

"Aside from you, sweetheart," Darrell winked at Sam. "Shy Boots is Ryan's horse and when he trailered him down he also brought Witch, Jake's demon mount."

"Your horse is here?" Sam gasped. "You didn't tell me your horse was here."

Jake shrugged. "Didn't think of it."

"I want to see her," Sam wiggled in her seat, calling to mind the image of the horse Jake had shown her. The black one. And suddenly, Sam was filled with the knowledge that seeing Witch wasn't just something she wanted to do, it was something she had to do. Something in her mental block was tugging at the image of Witch. And suddenly, Sam was excited. She had remembered Dallas's name. She had remembered facts about Jennifer Kenworthy. And now, that wall in her mind was bending, perhaps breaking?, under the thought of Witch. Would she soon be free of the memory block forever?

"Sure," Jake shrugged.

"Don't touch it." Darrell warned Sam. "The horse. Don't touch her, don't look at her, don't talk to her, don't even think about her."

"Um?" Sam went.

"She is a vicious demon." Darrell exclaimed. "Jake will never believe just how much of a bitch that horse is because Witch adores Jake. Witch loves Jake. Witch will do anything for Jake. But Witch hates everyone else."

"Please," Pam sighed, "how can a horse hate someone?"

"Go meet her and see." Darrell insisted.

"Ryan," Jake muttered.

"Ryan will be at the barn with Boots, anyway." Darrell stood up. "C'mon, let's go show the girls your pretty little pony."

As the four of them filed out to the truck, Sam was full of excitement. Not just because of her maybe freedom from the mental block (although, realistically, she shouldn't be counting on simply seeing Jake's horse would make everything go away because it just didn't work like that) but because she simply couldn't remember seeing a horse before. She must have. Even Louise had said that Sam had learned to ride but Sam couldn't remember it. The only horse Sam could ever remember being around was Jingles, the little plush pony that sat on her bed.

"Where is this barn?" Pam asked, as she leaned heavily against the window to stay away from Darrell.

"Meh," Darrell gestured vaguely, "in that general direction."

"You just pointed to everywhere!" Pam exclaimed.

"Yes, yes, I did." Darrell grinned.

"You're infuriating." Pam growled.

"I believe you said that already."

"It needs to be said again since obviously it didn't sink in the first time." Pam sighed.

"Oh, and Ryan, in case you get any ideas, Pam, has a girlfriend."

"Ugh." Pam shook her head. "I don't care."

"It's Jennifer Kenworthy." Darrell informed them.

Sam turned, interested. She and Jennifer Kenworthy had apparently been good friends when they were children. If Jennifer Kenworthy was in San Francisco, Sam had to meet her too. There was no question about it. Jennifer could probably unlock another piece of the memory block that Sam hoped was fading.

"They're, according to Ryan, totally in love, which is why I don't understand why he moved here because Jen is in Vegas studying to be a vet."

Sam turned back around, deflated. Perhaps she would meet Jennifer Kenworthy someday, though. Just as she planned on someday walking Nevada again, she might meet all of the people from her past. The people that should still be in her present.

"We're here." Jake grunted as he turned off the truck.

Sam tossed the door open and jumped out. The smell of horses was in her nose. And she knew it was the smell of horses. She knew it was the smell of horse sweat and hair and oats and hay and leather from the saddles and bridles. Somehow this scent made sense to her.

Excited, she grabbed Jake's arm and followed him into the barn.

**I don't own**_** Phantom Stallion**_**. Let me know about how I am portraying Pam/Darrell because I haven't had much experience writing the two of them!**

**~TLL~**


	10. They've Begun

"Here," Jake gestured to the stall.

"Like I said, not too close," Darrell warned.

Sam ignored Darrell, throwing herself at the bars of the stall door. She peered in between them. The horse inside looked tiny, delicate. She looked the exact opposite of Jake. Witch's ears pricked forward the exact moment Sam gasped at the beauty of the creature in front of her. Witch slowly raised her head, eyes fixing on Sam. Her teeth bared and she lunged forward, snapping at the human. She retreated back just as quickly, her stance aggressive.

"Told you she was mean," Darrell clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"I knew there was a reason I hated horses," Pam muttered under her breath. A second later she glanced at Darrell to see if her new arch enemy had heard, but he hadn't.

Jake opened the stall door a crack. Sam stepped back, now on Darrell's side of the Witch opinions. However, the moment Witch scented Jake, she turned into a different horse. Though still wary of the humans on the other side of the closed stall door (which Sam had wanted to protest; Witch seemed dangerous), she dropped her nose to nuzzle Jake's shoulder. Jake, in return, reached up to stroke her broad neck.

"Sam," he said softly, reaching out a hand toward the door.

"Don't do it, she's a killer," Darrell hissed.

Sam swallowed. She didn't want to be afraid. She opened the stall door, and left it that way. She put her hand on Jake's. Witch stepped away from her master, toward the back of the stall. She had not turned hostile again, but Sam was staying on the side of caution, not daring to get too close. Jake, though, had put his arm around her waist, bringing her closer to Witch. Sam leaned back against his arm, not for comfort, but trying to convey without words that she didn't think that this was such a good idea anymore.

"Palm flat," Jake's hand came up to correct her cupped hand, and to place a peppermint in it. "Give her a treat, let her sniff you."

Sam did as he said, with extreme nervousness. She held perfectly still as Witch stretched forward, wanting the treat but not wanting to get any closer to Sam then Sam wanted to get to her. Witch's velvet lips whispered over Sam's palm and Sam wanted to squeal. The sensation was one of the most unique, perfect, things she had ever felt. And it was so familiar. So, so familiar. As Witch took a step closer, sniffing up her arm Sam blurted, "Who's Ace?"

Her voice sent Witch prancing away from her again, but the horse was relaxed. Sam decided to end on a good note, and rejoined the others outside of the stall.

She fixed her eyes on Jake, and repeated her question. "Jake, who is Ace?"

Jake reached up to rub the back of his neck. "The pony you learned to ride on." Anticipating some of her other curiosities about the horse, Jake added, "Died when you were seven."

"Oh." Before Sam could inquire further, someone else called out for Jake.

"Ely!"

Jake turned. "Slocum."

"I was wondering when you would arrive."

The boy in front of Sam was extremely attractive. Tall (though shorter then Jake), extremely slim with coffee brown hair and equally captivating eyes, he had an English accent that was absolutely hypnotizing. He was dressed in tan pants and a blue polo shirt, with a black riding helmet dangling from his left hand. His brown eyes flicked to Sam. "I don't believe we have met," he extended his right hand to her, "Ryan Slocum."

Sam took his hand, feeling slightly awkward. Who her age shook hands? "Sam Forster."

"Sam Forster?" Ryan cocked his head, looking at her as though she were a puzzle. "I know that name from somewhere, but you don't look familiar. Forgive me?"

"Oh, we've never met," Sam was quick to assure him, though she wasn't sure of it. Jake had said that Ryan just moved to Nevada … hadn't he?

"But your name," Ryan protested, "I am sure I know it."

"Ryan," Jake caught the Englishman's attention, "Jen's friend."

"Oh!" Ryan's face dawned with understanding. "You are the girl who was in the accident. I remember Jennifer telling me about that. I am terribly sorry about your father."

"Oh, um, thank-you." Sam accepted the sympathy.

"And I don't know you either." Ryan had turned his attention to Pam, who blushed.

_No_, Sam thought, seeing the unusual reaction in her best friend. Pam, who hadn't even been introduced to Ryan yet, already had a thing for him. Sam wanted to kick Pam. Darrell had even warned Pam that Ryan had a girlfriend. The thought that Darrell had predicted this ran across Sam's mind, and she wished that Darrell had been enough of a psychic so that this could be prevented. Because Pam didn't get into crushes easily. She relied on first impressions and was usually right about the good and bad guys.

"Pam O'Malley," Pam thrust her hand out. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasure is mine," Ryan replied courteously, but not overly interested.

"Now that you've met Jake's hellion would you girls like to be introduced to a well-behaved horse?"

"Don' be braggin'," Jake warned Ryan.

Ryan waved his hand dismissively, already leading the group further into the barn. "Don't be so touchy. You and I both know that Witch as a fantastic horse. Is it so wrong, however, for me to take as much pride in my horse as you do in yours?"

Jake didn't reply. Ryan chose to take this as an agreement rather than pick a fight.

"This," Ryan gestured majestically to a stall, though this one only had a half-door, "is my Shy Boots."

Sam peered over the stall door, though not as eagerly as she had with Witch.

"He's beautiful!" Pam gasped.

Sam had to agree. Shy Boots was beautiful. He was brown, almost the same colour brown as Ryan's hair, with an unusual blanket of white on his rear end. His two front legs also had white going halfway up them. His ears seemed overly large, but it was cute. Shy Boots was a lot bigger than Witch and moved with less grace and more arrogance. Shy Boots was also a lot friendlier. The moment he saw two new faces, he was up trying to make friends.

"Hi there," Pam stuttered nervously. Shy Boots ear flopped forward toward her voice, making his ears look a lot larger than they actually were.

"Here," Ryan placed sugar cubes in each of their hands. "They are his favourites."

"Ry," Darrell was bouncing. "While they make friends, we need to talk."

"Ah, yes." Ryan nodded. "If you will excuse Darrell and I for a moment." The two men headed back toward Witch's stall, heads bent low together.

The moment Ryan was out of eyeshot, Pam dropped the sugar cube to the floor of the stall and bolted away from Boots. She couldn't believe she had stood there, next to a horse, for so freaking long.

Sam, on the other hand, offered her cube to Boots. Jake wrapped his arms around her middle while she hung off of the stall door, scratching Shy Boots on his neck. The horse relaxed into it, cocking up one of his back hooves, allowing his head and neck to droop.

"He's like a puppy," Sam observed to Jake. "Wanna know a secret?"

She felt Jake's nod on his shoulder.

"I prefer Witch. I dunno why. I mean, I like Boots here too, but there's something about Witch." Sam inhaled deeply. There was something about the scent of the barn that just made her _feel_. It brought up a sense of deep nostalgia and joy; feelings she wished she understood fully.

"Sam," Pam interrupted, "Mom will be worried if we don't get home soon."

"Oh, of course." Sam pushed off the stall door. "Jake, we need to get back to Pam's."

Jake nodded.

(-.-)

"Sorry about dragging you off like that earlier." It was nearing midnight and Pam and Sam were in the middle of their second movie.

"Don't worry about it." Pam dismissed. "If I had a boyfriend, I would want to spend time with him too."

"He hasn't asked yet," Sam was quick to remind her. She dug her toes into the cushions of Pam's couch. "Pam, I saw how you were looking at Ryan."

"Looking at Ryan?" Pam looked at her friend, disbelieving. "I wasn't looking at Ryan in any way."

"Hey, I'm not accusing you of anything," Sam was quick to assure Pam. "I just wanted to remind you that Darrell said that he had a girlfriend, remember?"

"I remember." Pam ducked her head. "It's stupid to like him, isn't it? God, I was in his presence for, like, three minutes. And it's not like I'm in love with him. It's a crush. I'm allowed to have those."

"I know," Sam said, "I just want to make sure, if you ever meet up with him again, not to get involved."

"I'm not stupid." Pam picked up a pillow, studying it for a moment, before throwing it at Sam with a grin, "what about you? You and Jake cuddling up all day, but he hasn't asked you out yet?"

Sam cuddled the pillow to her. "I don't think he has. But you noticed how he doesn't say anything? Maybe kissing me, taking me on a date, _was_ his way of asking me out."

"Nothing is officially until he says the actual words." Pam was grinning. "I'm happy for you though. Looks like you bagged a good one."

Sam giggled. "I didn't bag him!"

"Girl, you went all cowgirl on his ass and hogtied him to hell," Pam put on a hick accent.

"I have no idea what you just said." Sam confessed.

Pam and Sam met each other's eyes and cracked up, without being entirely sure why.

(-.-)

"Hey, hon. How was Pam's?" Sue greeted Sam.

"Great." On an impulse, Sam wrapped Sue in a hug. "Thanks," she said, "I know that Mom and I have been nuts lately, but I know you're on my side."

Sue pursed her lips as Sam dug for a drink. "I don't want to think of it as sides," she said slowly. "But I believe that your mother is wrong on a few things."

"You don't have to sugar coat it," Sam, lemonade in hand, took a seat on the counter. "I'm old enough to know that adults make mistakes; that parents aren't perfect."

"I know you are," Sue gave a soft eye roll. "I just don't want you to lose complete faith in Louise. She is only trying to protect you, though she could have chosen a better way."

Sam stayed silent a moment, thinking. "I forgive her for hiding my past when I was a child, I think. I mean, if I was really as bad as she said I was, in the hospital, then I might have made the same decision she did. But, when she kept hiding it from me, when she's trying to forbid me to talk to Grace and discover myself, that's where my understanding stops."

Sue rested her hand against her niece's cheek. "I hear you, kiddo. Now, get your butt off the counter and help me make dinner."

"Sure." Sam slid down. "What are we having?"

"I was think mac and cheese. It's a hard meal to screw up, right?"

Sam nodded, laughing. Sue was notoriously bad in the kitchen. "Don't worry. I'll coach you."

Sue placed noodles on the counter. "Good, I think I'll need it."

Sam tied back her hair and reached for a pot to boil the water in.

"So, Sam," Sue started, "I hear there's a boy."

Sam blushed, feeling the heat on her cheeks. "There's a boy," she confirmed.

Sue squealed. "My little girl, all grown up! Tell me everything."

Sam bit her lip, looked her aunt in the eye, and started talking.

**I'm looking for a beta reader for this story. So, if anyone wants to volunteer, or knows a good beta reader, will you please let me know? Thanks! For Boots, I described the picture on the cover of **_**Kidnapped Colt**_**, book number 15. I don't own **_**Phantom Stallion.**_

**~TLL~**


	11. Dance And Prance For Little Baby

Sam was at Jake's. He was at his desk; flipping through a textbook Sam was sure was heavier than her. She was stretched out on her stomach on his bed, rereading the newest letter from Grace before she wrote her reply.

_Dear Sam,_

_ I am happy to hear that you seem to be doing so well in school. It is important; though I am sure you have heard that from every adult you have ever spoken too. I am especially impressed to hear that you are on your school newspaper. It seems like a great activity to be doing on top of a job. The story of how you met Jake there was very interesting._

_ I hope that you are working hard, sweetheart, and I hope that your feud with your mother blows over soon. I love you very much, dear._

_ Your grandmother,_

_ Grace_.

The letter was short, but the writing was very shaky. Sam was getting the impression that it was getting hard for Grace to write. Nevertheless, she was happy to hear a reply.

_Dear Grace,_

_ I know school is important. I am trying to work on my grades. I don't think they're that great, especially math._

_ I was hoping you could tell me more about my father. Mom won't speak about him much, apart from what she told me on the first night. I wanted to know more about his personality, his likes and dislikes. I want to know more about the person he was. Did he go to college? Did he have a favourite horse? What was his favourite food?_

_ I look forward to hearing from you,_

_ Sam._

She looked up from the letter. She was starting to get the feeling that she should start calling Grace something like Grandmother, or Grandma. She was starting to feel like Grace was more than just her unknown father's family. Grace was starting to feel like her grandmother; matronly. It was starting to feel wrong to think of Grace by her name. Sam didn't call her mother 'Louise' after all.

Sam kicked her feet up behind her as she tucked the letter into the envelope. She positioned the envelope on top of the textbook she had been using as a writing surface and filled in the two addresses; her own and Grace's.

"Jake?"

"Mm?"

"What did I used to call Grace?"

"Gram." He turned away from his desk and textbook.

"Sick of studying?" Sam guessed.

Jake nodded. "Wanna go somewhere?"

Sam shook her head. "Can't we just stay here? Watch a movie?"

"Sure," Jake agreed. He got up from the desk chair and Sam jumped off of the bed. She followed him down to the living room.

"Popcorn?" He offered.

"Sure," Sam headed to the little cupboard where he kept his movies. "I never see your roommate around."

Sam heard popcorn begin to pop and a fridge door open and shut. "He's not here a lot," Jake revealed. "Drug dealer."

"Ew," Sam made a face.

Jake smirked at her expression. "Exactly."

Sam turned back to the movies. There were a lot of action movies. She wondered if they were Jake's or the drug dealer's movies. Still, boys and their cars. She looked at some of the movie covers. Boys and their explosions. She kept digging through the movies, until she found a horror movie. It seemed like a better option than car chases and explosions.

She turned on the DVD player, putting in the movie. She flicked on the TV as the popcorn stopped popping. Sam heard movement in the kitchen as she collected the remote and headed for the couch. She pulled the blanket that had been draped over the back of the couch. Despite the fact that the weather was now moving more toward spring, it was still kind of chilly.

Jake appeared, a bowl of popcorn in one hand and two cans of soda in the other. He placed the warm bowl of popcorn in Sam's hands and she slid her palms underneath, soaking up the temperature. Jake placed the drinks on the floor, before putting an arm around Sam's shoulders. Sam reached out and pressed play.

"Can we talk about something?" Sam reached over to look up at his face.

"Okay."

"It's something that Pam mentioned."

Jake was still staring at her expectantly.

"Are we dating?" Sam held her breath. She wanted to be clear on what she was doing with Jake because they had been kissing and cuddling and she was coming to _really_ like him. She wasn't saying she loved him or anything, but it was definitely more than a crush. But she'd never had any kind of relationship with a guy, not like this. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do. But she had, since she had started getting to know him again, always been able to talk to him.

Jake met her gaze and Sam swore his cheeks turned a darker colour. It was actually kind of cute how embarrassed he got about his feelings.

"If you want."

Sam closed her eyes. His avoiding his feeling things was also kind of annoying. She wanted him to ask her. "If I want what?"

"Stubborn Forsters." Jake smirked again, before taking her hand. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

Sam stretched up to kiss him on the lips before whispering, "Yes" into his ear.

She then settled down against his side, the popcorn bowl fitting into the curve of her stomach. She was smiling like she had never smiled before, a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach. There was only one thing wrong with her life scenario right now and that was fighting with Louise. She had never fought with her mother before and she didn't like the feeling. As a priest began to perform the first of many exorcisms on screen, Sam realized that she was going to have to have a serious talk with Louise and tried to patch things up. She would do that the moment she got home. For now, the feel of Jake's warmth was enough.

(-.-)

"Mom?" Sam pushed open the door to her apartment. "Mom, are you home?"

There was no response. Sam checked the counter for notes but there was only one from Sue. Sam sighed, padded through the kitchen and checked the empty living room. As she headed down the hallway, she noted that the bathroom door was open, as was her bedroom and Sue's, but Louise's was closed. After tucking her bag away, Sam knocked on Louise's bedroom door. There was no response from within, but Sam heard a noise.

Her mother was ignoring her! This hurt Sam more than she thought it would. Her mother was acting like a moody teenager when Sam was, for once, trying to act like an adult. Picturing her mother as a teenager made Sam feel even more determined to get in the room.

"Mom! I know you are in there!" Sam winced. Taking on an aggressive tone this early on in the conversation was probably not the best idea. "Please, Mom, let me in. I need to talk to you."

The door opened and Louise appeared in the crack. "What do you need, Samantha? Allowance money?"

"I don't want money, Mom. I want to talk to you."

"About what?" Louise was eyeing her suspiciously and Sam hated that her own mother was making her feel like some kind of a criminal.

"About what's been going on lately. Things just haven't been the same and I always used to be able to go to you and now I feel like you don't even want to hear me speak. Do you know what that feels like? To have your own mother _glare_ at you because you bring up something that you're honestly excited about?"

"It can't be any worse than having your own daughter cast you as the villain when you were only trying to be her hero? You want to talk about glaring? You haven't looked at me in a positive way in weeks! You are determined to make me the bad guy."

"I am not determined to make you the bad guy," Sam snapped, "and I didn't knock on your door to fight. I want to make things better between us! I hate seeing you as the bad guy," Sam felt tears well up her eyes. She hadn't expected _this_ to turn into yet another fight with Louise. "You were always my hero and I think I can try to, no I _can_ understand about you hiding my past when the accident happened. You told me how I was catatonic and I think that it might have been the best decision but why not tell me about it now? It has been years –"

"Why not tell you about it now?!" Louise screeched. "You are still having nightmares! You still wake up screaming –"

"I HAVEN'T HAD A NIGHTMARE IN WEEKS!" Sam interrupted her mother with a yell. "I haven't had a nightmare since I started to discover the reasons behind why I was having the dreams. You always led me to believe that it was because of a horror movie or that I had an overactive imagination. Can you imagine how much better I'll be if you just explained everything? I am old enough to handle it. I'm old enough to process it."

Louise shook her head. "I am your mother. I am your mother and I have to protect you. I can't tell you all the gory details because that goes against my every instinct. I need to make sure that you're safe and I can't believe that talking to you about it is the best way to do it."

"I guess I can understand that. And I love that you want to protect me. But you also need to realize that I am not a little girl anymore. I am a teenager. And I need to find out about my past. I need to discover who I was. Being a teenager is about discovering who you are, the rest of my life is supposed to be about that, but I can't do that without knowing my past. So, I know that you don't agree with it, but can you please try to understand that I need to do this?"

Louise stared at Sam for a long time. Sam was right, she _wasn't_ a little girl anymore, but she wasn't an adult either. She was a sixteen-year-old girl and Louise still believed that she needed a mother's guidance. But, Sam was also starting to resist that guidance, forge her own path. She was trying to find her own way, and Louise could admire that. She just wished Sam's path was taking her forward, not backward. Louise had worked hard to keep that life behind them.

"You don't need to do this," Louise reached out and rested her hand against Sam's cheek. It had been so long ago that Louise's palm was the size of her daughter's head. "This is something that you think you need to do and I think you are going about everything the wrong way."

"It _is_ something I need to do. And what do you mean the 'wrong way'?" Sam had a bad feeling that she knew what her mother meant though, her mother meant Jake. She didn't know if Louise knew that she was falling for Jake, or if she thought they were still in the friend phase, but it had always been very clear to Sam that Louise was not giving Jake her stamp approval. Of course, Louise did have a problem with Sam contacting Grace.

"I overheard you and Sue talking." Louise shifted her hand from Sam's face, to grip her daughter's arm. "You can't be falling in love with this boy."

"Who said anything about falling in love?" Sam's eyes flashed angrily. "I like him and I'm not going to be ashamed about that."

"Are you still talking to Grace?" Louise switched the subject.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I am. And I am enjoying every second of it." Sam sneered.

"See, this is what I was talking about. You are cruel to me without reason."

Sam heaved a sigh, giving up. "Mom, you need to grow up."

And she walked away from her mother, like she had been doing so often lately.

**This chapter is unbetaed. Thank you for reading! I don't own **_**Phantom Stallion**_**.**

**~TLL~**


	12. Blacks And Bays

"I have an idea," Sam announced.

Jake raised his eyebrows in response, glancing at her from the driver's seat.

"You should teach me how to ride."

"You know how to ride," Jake pointed out. He didn't know how good of an idea this was. Last time he and Sam had been left alone together with a horse it hadn't ended that badly but a week after, she had been out of his life.

"I don't remember how to ride," Sam protested, bouncing on the seat. This idea had come to her late last night. Being around horses had seemed to trigger some memories, so maybe if she learned how to ride (or remembered how to ride, she didn't exactly know how that worked) it might bring back even more memories. This led to a forbidden thought; one Sam hadn't allowed herself to think since.

"And you decided I would be a good teacher." He said it with finality, though it was more of a question. What on Earth would make Sam think he would be a good teacher?

"Well I decided that you know a lot about horses. You grew up on a ranch, you have your own. And I figured that it would be pretty easy for you to teach me – I'm a fast learner. And it would become especially easy if I started remembering how to ride. Was I a good rider in Nevada?"

"For a brat."

Sam ignored this. "Of course, if you're not up for the job, I could probably find someone else."

Jake snorted. "Like who?"

"Ryan seemed awfully friendly." Sam let the sentence hang for a minute. She wouldn't really go talk to Ryan. She had met him all of once and had barely spoken to him during that time. But she knew of Jake's feud with Ryan and she hoped this might convince him to give her what she wanted. Not that she wanted to be a blackmailing girlfriend. That wasn't cool. "I'm sure he might be able to teach me something."

Jake let out a sigh, fists clenching on the steering wheel before relaxing. "All right," he agreed quietly.

"Really?" Sam grinned. "When can we start?" Another thought dawned on her that made her smile slip slightly. "I'm not going to be learning on Witch am I?"

Jake shook his head. Despite the fact that Witch was gaining in years, she was as feisty as ever. She would never take a beginner on her back. That beginner would be on the ground faster than he could blink. Jake wondered what horse he could use. Shy Boots wouldn't work either. Though Boots was gentler than Witch, he was younger and still high-strung. He was no beginner horse either. But Ryan was, sadly, still a good idea. He had brought several horses with him when he came and one, he knew, would be perfect for Sam to learn on.

"No," Jake assured her.

"Then who?" Sam asked.

Jake smirked. "You'll see."

"When?"

"Later."

"Seriously!" Sam cried, "when do you start teaching me?"

"When I feel like it."

"That's not fair!" Sam pouted. "I want to start now."

Jake switched his course, heading for the barn instead of his dorm. "Fine," he conceded. He thought he hid it well but he was counting down the seconds until Sam remembered him. He liked getting to know Sam now; she was wildly different from the last time they met, but he wanted her to remember the childhood days that he did.

"Really?" Sam gasped and her heart started hammering. "I'm going to get on a horse?"

"Isn't that what ya wanted?"

"Well yes," Sam considered it for a moment. "I'M GOING TO GET ON A HORSE."

Jake flinched from the volume as her excited shout continued to echo around the small truck cab. Sam noticed and shrunk into herself, sheepish. "Sorry," she mumbled.

Jake didn't reply, just parked the truck in front of the barn. "Stay," he told before slipping out of the door. He knew Ryan was inside, probably prepping Boots for some big show that Ryan had entered him in. Jake walked down the hall and Witch came to the front of her stall, ears pricked as she scented him. Jake reached through the bars to give her a swift pat on the nose before moving on.

As he predicted, Ryan had Boots cross tied in the hallway, wrapping his legs. "How's my good boy?" Ryan cooed, running his hand over the dark coat. "My good boy." He moved for the back leg. "You're going to do great at the show, aren't you Boots? Yes you are."

"Talkin' to yourself?" Jake alerted Ryan to his presence.

Ryan finished Boots leg before straightening. "Talking to Boots," Ryan corrected. "You should try it some time."

"I treat my horses like horses," Jake shot back.

"Boots knows he's a horse," Ryan reached up and scratched his ears. "Can I help you with something?"

"I need her," Jake hooked his thumb at the mare in the stall beside Boots'.

"For what?"

"Sam. Riding lessons." Jake offered the shortest of explanations.

Ryan glanced at the horse, then back to Jake. "Good choice. Borrow her for as long as you need. I know you'll take care of her."

Jake nodded. "Thanks."

Ryan agreed. He clipped a lead line to Boots' halter. "Time to load, boy."

Jake rolled his eyes as Ryan led the horse away to the trailer that was waiting for him. He followed at a slow shuffle, heading toward the front entrance as Ryan and Boots turned toward the back one. Once he could see Sam, he beckoned for her. She jumped out of the truck quicker than he thought. He surveyed her outfit and made a mental note to remind her to pick up cowboy boots. Sneakers just weren't the greatest of ideas.

"Come on." He turned on his heel and Sam padded behind him.

"What horse am I using?" Sam questioned as Jake paused to give Witch a quick pat. He didn't seem inclined to answer her so she repeated, "what horse am I learning how to ride on?"

Jake continued down the hallway toward Boots' recently vacated stall. He stopped there and leaned against the wall. "Here," He pointed into the stall.

Sam crept forward, looking over the half door stall. She wasn't worried about this horse. If Jake thought that Sam could learn how to ride on the horse, then surely it was gentle. The horse was a reddish colour with a lighter mane and tail. It was delicate and fine-boned. Sam was instantly worried that she would break the fragile looking creature.

"Hi," Sam whispered, "what's your name?"

"Princess Kitty," Jake replied.

"Princess Kitty," Sam repeated in a baby-talk voice. "Well aren't you a pretty girl." Without thinking about it, Sam had unlatched the stall door and let herself in. Kitty held her ground, watching with pricked ears as Sam came toward her.

When Sam was close, she stopped. Kitty stretched out her neck and sniffed at Sam's shoulder. She came closer, nosing at Sam's hands, looking for treats. Sam instinctively spread her fingers as Kitty's muzzle knocked against her wrist. In response to her action, Kitty let out a breathy snort.

Sam froze. She hadn't been moving before but she froze on the inside and out. She had heard that noise before; in a dream. The night after she had found everything out she'd had a dream where there had been a horse above her and the horse had made that noise. Taking a breath, Sam made herself unfreeze. She moved to Kitty's neck, so the horse's ear was near her mouth. Rubbing circles on Kitty's neck, Sam couldn't help but ask the horse, "I knew you, didn't I?"

Kitty turned her head to look at Sam, nose nudging the human's hip. Sam pat the horse's head. She looked over at Jake. "When do we get to ride?"

"Brush her first." Jake passed one of Ryan's spare grooming kits over the stall door.

Sam took the kit, inspecting the utensils inside. "I don't know what to do with this." She pulled out a sharp looking object that didn't seem like it should be used on a horse.

"Hoof pick."

Sam glanced down at Kitty's feet. "What do her feet need picking for?"

Jake smiled, though it was slightly bittersweet. At the age of six, Sam had grabbed his hand and insisted that she was the best 'hoof-picker in the whole wide world' and that he just 'had to see it or else he would die'. With that thought weighing on him, Jake let himself into the stall, plucking the tool from Sam's hand. "Watch. This is how you do it."

Sam watched each of his actions, waiting for when she would be able to do it on her own.

(-.-)

"Were you with the boy again?"

Sam slumped against the door, exhausted. She wasn't just exhausted physically, she was exhausted mentally. She was tired of this fight with her mother weighing on her mind. She didn't need that. She needed her mother's support as she tried to figure out her past. Wasn't that her mother's job? To support her in whatever journey she may want to take on her life?

"So what if I was?" Sam tried to be challenging, but it just came out as weak. She was tired from just brushing the horse. She hadn't even gotten on Kitty today, just learned how to clean the horse and her tack.

"I told you to stop seeing him."

Sam pushed herself off of the door. "Why is this such a threat to you?" She asked softly.

"I want to protect you." Louise met Sam's eyes. "That is all I've wanted to do since the moment I knew I was carrying you. You can't blame me for being a mother."

Sam didn't hesitate as she wrapped her arms around her mother for the first time in weeks. Louise was tense in her arms for a second. In the next second, her arms were around Sam, squeezing her daughter back. She had missed this intimacy. For the longest time, it had been just her and Sam; her and her little baby girl. She remembered the day her red-headed infant had been born; the way those bright green eyes had stared up at her, with no fear whatsoever. Louise could recall the way Wyatt had swept his new daughter into his arms _'another beautiful girl'_ he had whispered before planting a kiss on Louise's forehead.

Tears sprung into Louise's eyes. Where had it all gone wrong? Where had she lost this perfect family life? What had she ever done to lose her beloved husband; her gorgeous baby's memories? Unashamed, she wept into Sam's shoulders, wondering when her crying infant had grown to the same size as her.

"Mom," Sam whispered, unsure what to say. She rubbed a circle on her mother's back, like Louise had often done when something had driven Sam to tears. "I can forgive you," Sam breathed, a peace offering, into Louise's ear, "if you can forgive me."

The words made Louise stiffen, though Sam seemed not to notice. Immediately, there were questions in Louise's mind. The most prevalent of those questions were; _why do I need to be forgiven_? Louise had done nothing but live up to her job, her privilege, as a mom. She had kept Sam safe – physically, mentally, emotionally – all of her life. And it wasn't an easy task, especially after the accident. Louise had fought for her daughter's mental stability, had kissed every broken bone in her drugged daughter's body.

Louise stood, breaking Sam's grip. "I don't need to be forgiven." Louise pursed her lips. "And you shouldn't think so."

"You've made life difficult these past few weeks," Sam struggled to keep her calm. If she just pushed through the issue, made Louise see her actions in an unbiased light, maybe they could get back to being friends; being mother and daughter. "I felt like you've been extremely condescending and that you don't approve of any of the choices I've made –"

"I don't," Louise interrupted.

"You've made that very clear." Sam couldn't help the one bit of sarcasm. "And I could understand your involvement if I was doing something dangerous, like drugs or drinking. But I'm not. I'm still the same person you knew a month ago, I'm just trying to find the person you knew years ago."

"Most people have moved on from their young selves. I don't understand why this is so important."

"My father?" Sam demanded. "My grandmother? Friends? A whole different state, house, that I can't remember? Does any of that sound familiar?"

Louise's frown deepened. "I give up. If you want to ruin your life, go ahead. Just don't you dare come crying to me when everything falls apart."

**I love Kitty. Honestly, I felt like Sam should have had more of a connection to Kitty in the books, especially after she thought Blackie was lost forever. Ah well. Our Princess is here. I don't own **_**Phantom Stallion**_**.**

**~TLL~**


	13. Dapples And Grays

"And I just don't know if I can stay in that house anymore." Sam stood in Kitty's stall, running a soft brush over the mare's already gleaming coat. Jake was leaning against the wall, watching as she gestured angrily while still using the gentlest of touches on the horse.

"I mean, I am sick and tired of her being such a bitch to me." Sam put down the soft brush before reaching for the hoof pick. She was nervous about using this tool. It looked like a possible murder weapon and she was extremely worried about hurting Kitty. "I don't want to leave Sue with just my mom because I know that Sue is getting annoyed with Mom too but Sue is usually at work so … I don't even know where I'm going with this."

Sam sighed and reached for Kitty's foot, putting weight against the horse's leg to signal that she wanted Kitty to lift her hoof. Kitty responded immediately, placing her hoof in Sam's ready hands. Sam adjusted the hoof pick in her hand and continued to talk to Jake, finding it easier to concentrate if she wasn't overthinking it.

"It's not like I can move out, even though I have thought about it. I am tired of not being understood and of it being the same fight different day. I am tired of my mother being so repetitive. I don't want repetitive. I want exploration – into the new and old. I feel like I need permission to live and that's not right."

Sam placed down Kitty's last foot, confident that she had done a good job grooming. She put the hoof pick back in the grooming kit, curling her toes inside her new boots. They were actually Sue's cowboy boots from when her Aunt had gone through a western phase in the early 2000s. When she had presented them to Jake he had mumbled 'too stylish but functional'. Sam disagreed, finding nothing wrong with the pink boots other than the fact they clashed with her and Kitty's red hair.

"Did I do a good job?" Sam asked as Jake began to inspect Kitty.

"More careful with the feet." Jake plucked the hoof pick out the grooming kit, scraping out a few pieces of dirt Sam had missed.

"Right. Sorry." Sam stuck a hand in her pocket and slipped Kitty a peppermint when Jake was preoccupied. He had already accused her of babying the horse. Well, horses in general, apparently. She had already romanced the spotted horse that lived across from Witch. Sam mentally corrected herself as Jake had earlier. It was not _spotted_ it was an _appaloosa._

"Stay." Jake dropped the hoof pick into the kit and exited the stall.

"Yes, Master," Sam muttered sarcastically to Kitty, who was nosing around the pockets of Sam's jeans. "No more treats." Kitty didn't give up so Sam fed her another peppermint. "That's for being a good girl and for listening to me. I think you listen better than Jake."

Kitty snorted.

"And a better talker too, apparently." Sam leaned her head against Kitty's neck. "What do I do? I can't get through to her and I am tired of trying."

Sam straightened as Jake's footsteps marked his return.

"This is a saddle." Jake elbowed his way into the stall.

Sam rolled her eyes. "I'm not a total idiot." It wasn't that she remembered exactly. It was more common sense and an hour of Googling the previous night.

Jake threw something at her. "Put this on her." He nodded toward Kitty.

Sam stared down at the thing in her hands. _Saddle blanket_. At least she could remember her Googling. It couldn't be that hard to put the blanket on the horse. She swung it onto Kitty's back. Kitty didn't even move as the light weight settled across her skin.

"Backwards," Jake said immediately.

Sam rotated the blanket.

"Too low."

Sam pulled it up.

"Too high."

Sam pulled it down.

"Uneven."

Sam evened it out.

"Acceptable." Jake deemed. "Here." He thrust the saddle into Sam's unsuspecting arms.

Sam's arms buckled under the weight. How could this thing weigh so much? She adjusted it the best she could, and went to place it over the saddle blanket.

"Backwards." Jake corrected.

Sam sighed but at least he had warned her before she had the saddle on Kitty. Sam awkwardly rotated the saddle in her arms and tried to lift it over Kitty's high back. She couldn't quite get the piece of heavy equipment that high and tossed a pleading look at Jake. Jake smirked (a gesture she thought he used entirely too much) before coming over to her. He wrapped his arms around hers and helped her settle it properly on Kitty's back. He reached under the horse's stomach and pulled the girth out for Sam handing her the piece of leather.

"Uh." She stared at the thing in her hands blankly before turning and staring at Jake blankly. "What is this for?"

"To hold the saddle on."

"Makes sense." There was another pause. "What do I do with it?"

Jake chuckled and showed her how to tighten the girth so the saddle didn't slide when she mounted. Sam watched him, nervous. She had pushed for this and she still wanted too but Kitty was so very big and it seemed so very complicated. She ran a hand over the saddle. This didn't seem very comfortable. While Sam was busy inspecting the saddle and ruminating on what was to come, Jake was grabbing the bridle from the hook on the door.

"Do you know what this is?" He dropped the bridle in her outstretched hands.

Sam caught the leather thing with ease, glad it was lighter than the bridle. Unfortunately, she could not remember the name of it. She lifted it up in front of her face. She knew that she must have seen it on the internet last night but she couldn't place it. She ran her hands over it trying to place it. Eventually she had to give up. "I have no idea," she admitted, turning to Jake.

His eyes seemed to grow a little darker. "Bridle," he handed her the word.

Sam sighed. "You don't have to sound so annoyed. I'm a beginner."

Jake froze mid-gesture. His hand hovered just over the bridle and Sam's hand. "I forget." He revealed his voice so thick with emotion Sam felt she could go swimming in it. "You used to try to teach me." He unfroze, taking the bridle from Sam, just to have something to do. "I already knew, being older but you pretended I didn't."

Sam stayed quiet, unsure how to respond. Jake would give her answers to any question she asked about her past but she had never heard him open up like this about _their_ past.

"Do you not want to see me?" Sam wished she could stuff the words back into her mouth the moment they were released.

"What?" Jake's voice was like a whip.

"I just meant," Sam started stuttering. "I don't want to hurt you, emotionally, I mean if it's too hard for you to think of then and now."

Jake left Kitty's head and went to Sam. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling the security of her arms around his torso. "I lost you for too long." He stayed there for the longest of moments thinking back. The last time he had seen Sam she had been unconscious. It had been right after the accident. After she had woken up his mother had said that Sam was too sick to have visitors. Four weeks after that, Louise left Nevada without a word to anyone.

When he had met Darrell in yet another random diner in San Francisco, he hadn't expected to find her. He had never expected to see her again, if he was to be honest. Yet, what was special about a red-headed waitress named Sam? Nothing. Except this one had a scar on her right cheekbone from when he had pushed her into the La Charla river. Still, he hadn't had a clue what he was doing when her name left his lips for the first time in years.

Jake lifted his arm from Sam's body to that spot on her right cheekbone, moving her head from his chest so that she was looking at him. He had never thought he would be here with Sam either, with his arms around her waist and about to kiss her. But, he did. And was he ever happy about it.

Sam grabbed onto Jake's hips as he kissed her back. It was more of a passionate kiss than he had given her before and it made her knees go weak. She leaned into the kiss more though she was quickly running out of breath. She finally had to drop away from his lips, trying to fill her lungs with air.

"Sorry for asking," Sam mumbled.

Jake kept his mouth closed, feeling like he had revealed too much in the past few minutes. "Get Kitty."

Sam picked up the long things dangling from the bridle. "I don't get him sometimes," she told Kitty as she followed Jake out of the barn. "Kisses me, won't speak to me. Good thing he's cute." Kitty let out a noise. "I know you get it. You're a girl. And you've seen him."

Jake led her into a covered ring. He stood in the middle and waited for Sam to get to him and stop. "Girth." He pointed. Sam moved to Kitty's middle and tightened it another few holes. Jake didn't say anything so she assumed she did it right. "Stirrup."

"What?"

Jake pointed.

"I can't get my leg up that far." Sam stretched her foot toward the stirrup and missed it by inches.

Unexpectedly, Jake moved forward, lifting her foot and snapping it into the stirrup. Sam squeaked as a muscle screamed. She barely had time to react before Jake was grabbing her other leg and pushing her up, over Kitty's back.

"Leg over."

Sam didn't really process that, just swung her leg over Kitty's behind, settling it on the other side of the horse's body. Her foot groped around, looking for the other stirrup. She was terrified of kicking Kitty and the mare taking that as some sort of signal to take off. Kitty looked like she was about to fall asleep – not even reacting to Sam's weight settling on her – but Sam didn't want to take any chances.

"What now?" Sam looked down at Jake, trying to get used to the feeling of being higher than him for once. She'd never seen the top of his head before and in a strange way, it was sort of fascinating.

Jake picked up the long leather things she had left on Kitty's mane. "Reins." He put them in her hands. "Hold like this."

Sam held them wrong, of course.

He was quick to correct her, of course.

By the time Sam had her clumsy fingers wrapped around the reins, her finger muscles were hurting, her leg muscles were hurting and she was wondering what was going to happen when she started to move.

"Relax," Jake commanded. "Now, walk."

"How?"

"Legs."

Sam looked down at her legs.

"Tap her sides."

Sam took a deep breath and gently tapped her foot against Kitty's sides. Kitty, who had been in the middle of a lovely nap, brought her head up, turning her ears toward her rider. Sam tapped again, a butterfly wing against Kitty. The mare, well-versed as she was with young riders, began to plod dutifully forward. Sam felt herself leaning to one side in the saddle. She dropped the reins and grabbed the horn. Feeling her rider's lack of control, Kitty stopped.

"Don't grab the horn!" Jake barked. "Pick up the reins. Sit back. Tap her. Steer."

Sam tried again. She felt herself sway.

"No horn!" Jake interrupted her reach.

"I'm going to fall."

"You're not," Jake swore. "Trust me."

She did.

**For the record, I am an English rider so describing Western riding style is kind of difficult. I don't own **_**Phantom Stallion**_**.**

**~TLL~**


	14. Running In The Night

"I'm moving!" Sam cried, a joyous grin on her face.

"Mmm," Jake nodded. "Steer."

Sam looked down at the reigns in her hand. "Like this?" She asked, moving her hand to the left. Kitty turned as instructed. Sam grabbed for the saddle.

"No!" Jake barked.

"I'll fall if I don't," Sam protested, dropping the reigns as she talked. Kitty halted.

"Pick them up," Jake gestured. "Your instincts know what to do. You're just not trusting yourself."

Sam picked up the reigns as he had instructed, a grumpy pout on her face. "There sure is a lot of trust involved in this riding stuff."

"Damn straight. Gotta trust your horse, yourself and whoever is around you. Now ride."

"You haven't taught me anything!" Sam objected.

"I don't have to." Jake made his way over to one of the barrels that were scattered around the arena and took a seat. "Ride."

Sam narrowed her eyes at him and glanced away. She had done this once. She had sat upon a horse's back amidst all this leather and she had ridden.

"Jake," she called.

"What?"

"Have I ridden Kitty before?"

Jake paused, considering. His brown fingers tapped out a rhythm on his jeans as he studied her. Finally, he challenged her. "You tell me."

Sam opened her mouth to argue, but kept her mouth shut. If he wanted to test her, she would ace it. "Come on Kitty," she muttered. She squeezed her legs against Kitty's sides, though harder than she had last time.

Kitty broke out into a working walk, not as lazy as she had been previous. Her ears pricked forward, her body finding purpose in every step of her hooves. She plodded where Sam directed, and Sam began to direct. The reigns really weren't complicated. Lean them on the right side of Kitty's neck and she would turn left, away from the pressure. So, Sam had steering figured out.

Her feet seemed fine where they were. At the very least, Jake hadn't complained about them yet. She kept her feet where they were, finding that if she braced her weight down into the stirrups, she didn't jerk around as she usually did when Kitty moved. She wasn't sure what to do with the rest of her body. Holding it upright felt too awkward but relaxing wasn't possible. The saddle was not a couch. The saddle some odd mixture of comfort and aching muscles. Sam already felt as though she were good friends with the muscles that were now aching in her legs, arms, feet and sides. She absently wondered why people enjoyed doing this if it hurt so much, before realizing how much she was enjoying it. She was doing nothing but walking around in circles on a horse but she was grinning like she had won a lottery.

Kitty stopped as they reached Jake. She stretched her neck toward the other human. Sam wobbled, reaching past the saddle horn to the coarse hair of Kitty's mane to hold her in place. She felt Jake's hawk eyes zero in on her hand, but it didn't matter. She was lost in a memory.

_ "Doesn't it pull her hair? Combs hurt my hair." _

_ "Go away Brat."_

_ "Answer me first! Are you hurting Kitty's hair? You're pulling awfully hard on her!"_

Sam clenched her hands tighter in Kitty's mane, knowing fully well that it wouldn't hurt her – something she hadn't learned from Google last night. It was something that she had learned from Jake who knows how long ago. And she wasn't sure how she knew that she had learned it from Jake, but she had. Her facial muscles began to ache from her ever widening smile. She had remembered something from Jake!

"You look like the cat that ate the canary," he commented.

"You were the one who told me about how if you tug on a horse's mane," Sam gave a slight pull on Kitty's mane that the horse didn't react to, "it doesn't hurt them like it does us."

Jake closed his eyes, his features becoming wooden. If Sam didn't know any better she would have said that he was a wooden carving from hundreds upon hundreds of years ago – he was that still. She was amazed when his eyelashes fluttered and his gorgeous brown eyes focused on hers.

"Suppose I did."

Sam's smile fell a little. "You don't remember that?" She was crushed. The first thing she remembers of Jake from before the diner and he can't bring the scene to mind! It didn't make sense for her to be angry at him, but she was. Only a tiny bit, the illogical side of her. The logical part kept reminding her that he didn't choose to forget the few sentence conversation in which she did most of the talking. But Sam knew, from recent experience, that she always would have done most of the talking.

"Ride," Jake told her, pushing Kitty's head out of his lap.

Sam used her reins to keep Kitty away from Jake, pushing the mare to the outside of the ring they were in.

"Can I go faster?" Sam asked Jake as she and Kitty began to circle back toward him.

Jake raised an eyebrow. "If you want."

Sam nodded, before glancing down at the ground. "Does it hurt?"

"What?"

"Falling?" Sam clarified. "Does it hurt?"

Jake shrugged. "Can't learn until you do." His face transformed into one of his signature smirks though.

Sam watched him suspiciously as they passed.

"I've fallen before!" She gasped with realization. Jake's face didn't change at all. "Well," Sam pushed. "Have I fallen before?"

"Years ago." Jake shrugged.

"I would have been so little." Sam frowned, strangely troubled by the fact that she had fallen off a horse before.

Jake shrugged again when she looked at him.

"Did I get hurt?"

Jake rolled his eyes. "You're fine. Do your thing."

Sam moved her hand away from the saddle horn.

"Thigh," Jake instructed. "Rest it against your thigh."

Sam placed her palm just above her knee and, suddenly, she felt much more at ease, much more natural. _Go with the horse_. The words floated through her mind and Sam resolved to obey them. She let her hips sway with the Kitty's body, but not too much. She let up on some of the force she was using to brace her body in the stirrups with.

Sam pressed against Kitty's sides with her legs and the mare broke out into a long stride. She wasn't racing against the wind or anything, but there was a definite increase in speed as Kitty's legs stretched out just a little more and Sam had to reapply some of the force in her stirrups. She felt her shoulders bounce a little and she was automatically wondering if she had enough body fat to jiggle unattractively.

Lost in that thought, Sam didn't feel herself leaning to the side. She didn't notice, until it was too late, that the ground was much closer than it should have been. She woke up to it at the last instant, desperately clawing for the saddle horn, Kitty's mane, anything to hold her in place, but to no avail. She hit the ground shoulder first. She rolled in the sand for a second, going with her momentum. She stayed in place, feeling the grit of the sand on her bare arms and exposed face. Hesitantly, she began to flex various body parts.

"Sam," Jake's hand rubbed against her ribs. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Sam sat up, putting a hand against her head and shook out her hair, feeling sand grains trickle down the back of her t-shirt. "I'll survive."

"Good," a tiny smile blossomed on Jake's face. "Grab Kitty."

"I don't wanna get back on," Sam whined, not caring that she was doing so. She was aching, tired, and sure there was a bruise blossoming on her cheekbone. She would get up again, perhaps next week when she could feel her legs again, but not today. "I'm so tired."

"Okay," Jake conceded quickly. "But you still need to take care of Kitty and put her away."

Sam nodded and let him pull her into a standing position. She rocked once on her feet before shuffling toward where Kitty had stopped. The horse was studying her fallen rider curiously. Sam reached for the reins that had fallen around Kitty's feet. "Hey, honey," she crooned. "You okay?"

"Stop talking to the horse," Jake snapped as she followed him into the barn.

"Stop being such a grumpus," Sam responded with an eye roll. "Kitty thinks you're being a grumpus. Right, Kitty?"

Jake sighed as Kitty blew out her unique sounding snort.

"So, what now?" Sam turned to Jake when they were back in Kitty's stall.

"Take the tack off, return it to wherever it's stored, brush down Kitty, make sure she has hay and water then see to yourself."

"Tack off," Sam focused on the first task. "Tack off." She reached for the girth, looking at Jake over her shoulder to make sure she was doing okay.

"And, for a bribe," Jake wasn't smiling but his voice was, "I'll get you a milkshake if you do a good job."

Sam returned to the girth. Maybe she could get a kiss to go with that milkshake.

(-.-)

"Hey, kiddo."

"Hey, Sue." Sam said, pulling off her borrowed cowboy boots. "Do you want these back?"

Sue glanced at the boots which were covered in manure and had several scuffs that had not been there the last time she had seen them. "I think you'll have more fun in them then I ever did."

"Thanks!" Sam chimed, placing the boots neatly on the mat. She would have to clean them at some point, preferably before they started to smell too badly. "So what have you done with your day off?"

"Tidied up a bit, as shocking as that may sound. But Louise hasn't been overly interested in cleaning lately so I have to pick up the slack. How are things between you and your mom?"

"Same old, same old." Sam responded. "Literally. I feel like she keeps presenting the same old arguments every day and no matter what truce I offer her, it gets thrown in my face. I can't win but I don't want to carry around this hatred for my mother for another day, let alone a week."

"I know how you feel, baby girl." Sue drew an arm around Sam, breathing in the horse smell that clung to the fabric of her clothes. The last time she had smelled that had been at River Bend Ranch after Wyatt's funeral service when she had hugged Grace Forster for the first time in her life. "What happened to your face?"

Sam brought a hand up to her cheek, the one Sue was pointing at, eyes wide. "I fell off a horse today," Sam admitted. She didn't want to. What if Sue banned her from riding?

Sue pursed her lips, not looking overly happy about the bruise blossoming on Sam's fair skin. "Hm. Anything else hurt?"

"Muscles are just sore from riding." Sam stretched as her attention was brought back to her exhausted muscles.

"Nothing else?" Sue clarified.

Sam shook her head. "Nope. Not even a headache."

"I wanna keep an eye on you for the next few hours. Make sure there's no concussion."

"Sue," Sam gaped, "I'm fine."

"Indulge your crazy aunt?" Sue prompted.

"Sure." Sam grinned. "It didn't hurt though."

"I think you're lying. That looks like it had to have hurt."

"It didn't, honest! The ground was covered in sand. And even falling was fun. I was kind of scared of it in the beginning but it's just a part of riding and I think I'm going to _love_ it."

"I'm glad." Sue ruffled Sam's red hair, the exact shade of her own. "Now go shower for me, would you hon? You smell like a barn."

Sam sniffed herself. "I happen to like the smell of the barn."

"_You_ would," Sue retorted as Sam headed for the bathroom.

**I don't own _Phantom Stallion._**

**__~TLL~**


	15. When You Wake

"Sue?" Louise crept slowly from her room to the living room where her sister was watching the evening news. Samantha had left for Pam's several hours ago so Louise felt safe talking to Sue.

"Mmm?" Sue lifted her eyes from the television to Louise, noting the troubled look on her sibling's face. She swiftly muted the T.V. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't know." Louise took a seat at the opposite end of the couch from Sue, feeling awkward in a way she never had around her sister. Sam's reunion with Jake and her subsequent struggle to reunite with her past was changing a lot of feelings between everyone involved.

"You know you can talk to me." Sue shifted on the couch so that she was facing Louise. Sue was glad that Louise had come out to talk whether it was to chat about something serious or something light. She had missed talking to her sister, having idle chit-chat. She missed the relationship that was full of jokes and slight sibling rivalry rather than tensions.

"Do you remember, a few months back, when I said I was applying for a new job?"

Sue frowned in concentration. "I think so. Sometime in late June right? I thought you decided not to apply."

"Well I didn't," Louise looked sort of sheepish. "But I did apply to a different one. It sounded like everything I wanted but …" she hesitated, "I didn't think I was going to get it so I didn't say anything in case I jinxed it."

"I wish you would have told me but I guess I understand the reasons." Sue shrugged. "Why bring it up now?"

"I got the job." Louise broke out in a wide smile. "I am so excited! It is everything I want, I swear."

"Congratulations!" Sue grinned, pulling her sister into a hug. "I am so happy for you."

Louise pulled back abruptly. "I'm not done."

"Not done? You mean telling Sam? Louise, I doubt a simple job change is going to affect her that much. You and I have both changed jobs before without her ever noticing."

Louise shook her head. "It _will_ affect her this time. It will affect you, her and me. This job is far enough away that we're going to have to move out."

"Move out?" Sue said slowly, trying to understand her feelings. She was upset, that was inevitable. Louise and Sam had been living here for years and she certainly didn't want to be here alone. She hated being alone. Also, if it was far enough away that Louise and Sam had to move, how often would she see them? Of course, things hadn't been great between her and Louise but tonight had showed that their bond was stronger than that. As for Sam, she couldn't see the teenager leaving. Sue knew that she would have to go with her mother but she couldn't visualize Sam not walking through that door every day. "If it's what you have to do," Sue whispered.

"It is. And I hope you support me –"

"I'm your sister, I will always support you." Sue interrupted, reaching over and taking Louise's hand – the same shape and size of her own – with her own.

"Will you help me with Sam?" Louise asked. "I know the move won't be easy on her but I need her with me. And maybe a new place will bring on a new attitude – in both of us."

Sue gave a soft smile. "That sounds good. But Lou?"

"Yeah?"

"You forgot to mention where this new job is."

"Oh," Louise looked down. "That's the really difficult part."

"I thought the difficult part was getting the job," Sue joked but on the inside she was panicking. If saying where the job was located was the difficult part just how far was her sister planning on going? If they went more than an hour away, Sue didn't know what she would do. She would miss her family terribly, more terribly than she had when Louise and Sam had lived in Nevada. When they were in Nevada Sue had forgotten what it felt like to have Louise so close, had never known what it felt like to have Sam so near. Now, she knew and couldn't bear to lose it.

"No it just took a while to happen." Louise met her sister's gaze for a moment before glancing away again. "Look, um, the job is in Calgary."

"Calgary?" Sue racked her brains. Where the hell was Calgary? Finally, she had to give up and ask. "What state is that in?"

"Alberta," Louise offered.

Again, Sue had to think. "I don't know where that is. Is it on the other side of the country? Like, New York area?"

Louise shook her head. "Sister, dear, it's in Canada."

"Canada!?" Sue shouted, forgetting her promise to be supportive. "You can't go to Canada! I'll never see you! I'll never see Sam! When you said moving I thought you meant like an hour away!"

"It's the best option." Louise struggled to keep her voice down. She was tired of fighting and yelling. She wanted make her last month or so with her sister as good as it could possibly be.

"I don't know what to say," Sue's eyes shone with tears. "When do you leave?"

"I am expected in Canada by the seventeenth of January."

"So soon?" A tear dripped down Sue's cheek.

"Hey, we'll have Christmas. And all this new technology that Sam talks about that I don't know anything about," Louise tried to smile at Sue but found it impossible because of Sue's sadness. "We won't ever stop being sister because I am not in the bedroom across from yours."

"I know." Sue sighed. "I just … it'll be hard."

"I know." Louise hugged her sister lightly. "I think we need some wine."

"Oh, honey," Sue was already standing. "I know we need some wine."

(-.-)

"You," Pam wiggled her toes in the direction of Sam, who wrinkled her nose and the appendages, "should do something for me."

"And why would I do something for you?" Sam teased.

"Because you love me." Pam grinned widely.

"Says you."

"Yes, says me. So, you gonna do it or not?"

"Do what?" Sam cocked her head to the side, studying her best friend. "I can't do it if I don't know what it is."

"Text Jake so that we can hang out with him and Darrell and Ryan."

"Why would I do that?" Sam was squinting at Pam suspiciously. "Look, if this is about Ryan, I thought we went over that."

"He has a girlfriend, blah blah blah. I'm not in love with him, blah blah blah. He's super cute, blah blah blah. Can you please just do it?" Pam smiled. "I'll love you forever!"

"You already love me forever," Sam pointed out.

"Well," Pam thought about it. "I'll love you forever and ever." Pam emphasized.

"I don't think it's a good idea," Sam shook her head. "You're going to want more from him than he'll want from you. That may sound mean but it's the truth. He has a girlfriend. There are plenty of good guys around that don't. What would be the point of seeing Ryan again?"

"I think you are making this into too big of a deal," Pam flipped onto her stomach, stretching across her bed. "I met him for just a few minutes. And you have to admit he was attractive. I just want to hang out with some boys. Maybe they'll introduce me to another cute friend of theirs."

"Why don't you just date Darrell?" Sam tossed the idea into the open.

"Uhm, ew?" Pam responded. "I need someone who is at least sort of decent looking among other things which Darrell is most definitely not."

"Not going to comment," Sam smiled. "I got the best of the bunch."

"Uh-huh." Pam shoved Sam's leg. "Pllllllleeeeeeaaassse? Text the boys for a night out?" Pam pouted as Sam began to shake her head. "You haven't done anything fun since Sarah's party in August."

"Considering what happened at Sarah's party, I'm not sure I want to deal with your kind of fun."

"Oh, come on!" Pam scoffed. "You had fun."

"If you say so," Sam muttered, keeping her thoughts about the party quiet.

"So, do it? Please."

"Won't your mom be mad we went out so late?" Sam tried another tactic. Not that it was late – not even nine. Still, Pam's mother had a strict rule about not leaving the house after 8:30.

"Mom is spending the night in the lab – some new experiment I don't quite understand. She won't even have to know if we're back here by noon tomorrow."

"Noon tomorrow?!" Sam spluttered. "What are you planning on doing?"

"That's the point." Pam grinned, "the unknown is fun. Now, go dig up some fun for us!"

"Pam –"

"Sammy!" Pam whined. "Text!" She rolled, pulling Sam's phone off of the nightstand and placing it in Sam's hand.

"All right," Sam sighed, taking her phone. "I'll text Jake. But no promises. I'm not getting the impression that he is a partier."

"He's a college guy. It's a Friday night. What else would he be doing?"

Sam sighed, knowing that Pam didn't understand Jake. Not that she blamed Pam for not understanding Jake. Jake was very hard to understand. "Never mind."

"So, did he answer?"

"I haven't finished typing yet!" Sam giggled, pressing send.

"What's the message say?"

"He hasn't replied yet."

"Boring."

"You are so self-involved," Sam rolled her eyes.

"I'm involving you in my self-involvement so is that really a self-thing?"

"That sounded sexual."

"Get your mind out of the gutter!" Pam whacked Sam's side, feeling the vibration of Sam's phone as she did so. "Answer that!"

"Geez, calm down." Sam opened the message. "He said that we can hang out with them tonight. Darrell and Ryan are together now and were coming to get him when I texted him."

"Tell him where to pick us up!" Pam bounced off the bed. "And we need to pick out some rockin' outfits!"

"Outfits?" A giggle escaped Sam, despite herself. "What do you think we are going to be doing?"

"Something that involves a better outfit than sweatpants."

"I _like_ my sweatpants." Sam defended her comfy blank sweatpants.

"Well, not for hanging out. Put this on."

"You aren't the boss of me."

"Wait – that's a skirt. When was the last time you shaved your legs?"

"Pam! You don't need to dress like you're going to a club. And, you were wrong. I am not making a big deal out of Ryan, you are making a big deal out of Ryan."

"Am not," Pam rolled her eyes. "What do you think of this outfit?"

"It makes you look like a prostitute."

"Rude."

"Honest."

"Look, I want to make a good impression and have fun. Is that so bad?" Pam turned on Sam with puppy dog eyes.

"Go more casual. And stop insulting sweatpants!"

"I have great fashion sense!" Pam pulled out a pair of leggings and a long shirt with a cropped jacket. "Better?"

"Much." Sam agreed, picking up her vibrating phone. "They'll be here in ten."

"So we need to find you something!" Pam screeched and dove for her closet. "Bedazzled jeans and long sleeved striped top sound good?"

"Doesn't sound like a prostitute." Sam giggled.

"Stop insulting my craft!" Pam stamped her foot, throwing the clothes at Sam. "Get changed you ungrateful swine."

"Bitch," Sam sat up, pulling on the clothes.

"Takes one to know one." Pam replied, running a brush through her hair. "Promise me something?"

"What do you want me to promise you this time?" Sam loved Pam, she really did, but her best friend could be pushy and over the top _all_ of the time.

"That you won't be a killjoy."

"I am _not_ a killjoy and I'm still not clear on what you think we're going to be doing tonight. It's not like we can get into a bar."

"I know, I know. I just want tonight to be different. Is that so bad?"

"No," Sam smiled. "I guess not."

"Good." Pam headed for the door. "Let's go!"


	16. You Shall Have All

Pam bounced the entire elevator ride down to the bottom floor of her apartment building. Sam couldn't help but roll her eyes. Pam was clearly in love with the idea of Ryan and it made Sam cringe. She couldn't wait for Pam to become disenchanted with Ryan, and though it would eventually happen, that Pam was enchanted at all was too much for Sam.

Still, Sam didn't say a word about it as Pam grabbed her hand and dragged her out of the elevator. Pam slammed the door opened and a wave of frigid feeling air slapped Sam in the face. It was unusually cold for late November and Sam shivered. Luckily, she did not have long to shiver as Darrell, driving a bright yellow car, pulled up to the curb. The passenger window rolled down and Ryan stuck his head out.

"You two look cold," he commented in a dry accent.

"You have no idea," Sam muttered in return, throwing the back door open. She slid into the middle spot, wrapping her arms around Jake. "Warm me up," she whispered.

She saw a flash of his white teeth in the semi-darkness. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight to him. She rested her head on his shoulder and felt Pam's thighs hit her knees. The car door slammed shut and Darrell turned around.

"So," he said, a sly grin growing on his face, "what were you ladies planning on doing tonight?"

"We just wanted to hang out," Pam flashed a smile.

"With us," Darrell fluttered his eyelashes like a flirtatious preteen girl. "I feel so honored!"

"Well, we didn't have much of an option."

"Don't be so negative," Ryan told Pam. "I know these two jokers don't add up to much, no offense to Samantha, but I'm great!"

Sam was offended at all. She was more concerned with keeping an eye on Pam. She might be making too big of a deal out of Pam's seemingly innocent crush on Ryan but Sam didn't want her best friend doing anything she might regret.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked before her friend could reply to Ryan.

"We were just going to driving around aimlessly until someone came up with a good idea," Ryan explained as Darrell did a shoulder check and pulled back out onto the semi-busy San Francisco streets.

"Oh," Pam giggled.

"Do you have a good idea?" Darrell asked, glancing in the mirror into the backseat.

"No," Pam shook her head. "I don't."

"Not there's anything wrong with aimlessly driving," Sam added.

"Except the gas money," Darrell pointed out. "And the eventual food money."

"Oh, man," Ryan piped up suddenly. "I could go for some fries."

"I am not buying you fries!" Darrell exclaimed. "For a rich guy, you are a total mooch on us poor college kids."

"Right," Ryan drawled. "There's a fast food joint up there," he pointed.

"Mooch," Darrell repeated under his breath. "You going to pay for your own fries?"

"I have no money," Ryan replied.

Jake bent down to Sam's ear to explain it to her. "Ryan's dad is a millionaire and his stepdad is rolling in it too but his father cut him off when he came to San Francisco."

"That's harsh!" Sam exclaimed. "I can't imagine cutting off my own child."

She felt Jake shrug beneath her. "Ryan doesn't need the help really. He's making a lot of his own money off his horses."

"Well, that's good."

"Mmm." The car turned for the drive-thru. "Want something?"

"Milkshake?" Sam asked, smiling. "Chocolate?"

"Sure," Jake dug in his pocket and pulled out some change, handing it to Darrell and relaying Sam's order.

"Hand over your fry money," Darrell smacked Ryan in the arm. "I know that you've got money."

"I wouldn't lie to you!" Ryan protested. "I'm insulted you would ever say such a thing."

"Cough it up," Darrell repeated, curling his fingers in a give me gesture.

"Fine, fine," Ryan dug in his back pocket and handed Darrell a bill. "Here."

"Thank you," Darrell pulled up to the speaker. "You want anything Pam?"

Pam looked crestfallen. She'd wanted Ryan to offer, not Darrell. "No thank you," she pouted.

"All right." Darrell shrugged and turned back to the speaker. "We will have one large chocolate shake, one large fry, a double cheeseburger with fries and a coke and, Jake, do you want anything?"

"Medium fries."

Darrell turned around and squinted at Jake. "Dude, are you going anorexic on me?"

"That's not funny," Jake shook his head.

"Well I've never seen you eat so little." Darrell protested. "That's like rabbit food!"

"Anything else, sir?" the speaker voice droned.

"Medium fries," Darrell shouted at it.

The speaker named a price.

"Everyone pay up!" Darrell ordered as he pulled up to the first window. Jake dug more change from his pocket and Darrell counted everything out.

A pretty young girl slid open the window and repeated the order price.

"Well hello there," Darrell smiled as he passed her the money. "How are you tonight?"

"Good," the girl blushed and tucked her hair behind her ear. "And you?"

"Better," Darrell replied.

Pam slumped backwards into her seat, muttering something. Sam pulled away from Jake to lean toward her friend.

"What?" Sam asked her.

"I hate everyone," Pam replied.

"Even me?" Sam mocked pouted.

"Especially you," Pam whined, keeping her voice low so no one else would hear her.

"What?" Sam exclaimed, feeling her heat begin to break.

"You have this awesome boyfriend and Ryan has this awesome girlfriend and Darrell is this flirtatious guy that girls smile at and I'm just blah." Pam gestured to herself. "I wanna be happy."

"Oh, honey," Sam reached out and hugged her. "You will be."

"I wanna be happy with someone who is happy with me."

"You will be," Sam repeated. "I don't know what else to tell you, dear."

"Find me someone?" Pam suggested.

"I already told you Darrell."

"EW!" Pam trumpeted like she had before, pushing Sam away from her. "You are _gaross_."

"Gross only has one syllable," Ryan told her.

"Who's gross and why?" Darrell demanded, handing out food as they came into the car window.

"Sam is gross and it's because she's Sam," Pam exclaimed, wrinkling her nose at her best friend.

"Well Pam is gross and it's because she's lame," Sam taunted in return.

"Sam is a poopyhead."

"Pam has cooties!"

"What are we, five years old?" Ryan asked.

"She started it!" The girls said together.

"Do I have to get in the middle?" Jake offered.

"Don't make me turn this car around!" Darrell threatened.

"You wouldn't," Jake scoffed. "You love driving around too much."

"Having girls in the car is just a bonus." Darrell chuckled. "I won't talk about looks 'cause Jake'll slug me if I say anything about Sam."

"Even if it's nice?" Ryan inquired.

"Don' matter," Darrell drawled. "He says I objectify women."

"I'm pleased that you know what objectify means," Ryan replied, somewhat pompously.

"Are you calling me stupid?"

"No, obviously not. You got into college."

"That is a surprise," Pam cut into their conversation.

"Don't be mean!" Darrell whined. "Jake! Your girlfriend's best friend with the rhyming name is being mean to me."

"Pamela and Samantha don't rhyme," Ryan said, puzzled.

"Fine," Darrell heaved a sigh. "Jake! Your girlfriend's best friend with the rhyming nickname is being mean to me!"

"Children," Jake huffed.

"We should get beer!" Darrell exclaimed. "There's our good idea for the night!"

"None of this car is old enough to drink," Jake pointed out.

Darrell glanced around the car, mentally calculating ages. "We should go to Canada and two of us can buy beer for the rest of us."

"Oh yeah, field trip to Canada eh?" Pam quipped.

"That has got to be _the_ worst Canadian accent I have ever heard in my entire life," Sam kicked out at Pam.

"You two settle down back there," Darrell glanced over his shoulder to yell at them.

It was yelling at the two giggling sixteen-year-olds that took his eyes off the road. It was taking his eyes off the road that caused him to swerve into the other lane. It was swerving into the other lane that caused him to hit the red jeep that was going too fast. It was crashing into that jeep that made them all fall unconscious.

(-.-)

"Samantha! Samantha!"

The voice grated on Sam's ears, making her cringe. She flinched away from it, turning her head.

"Baby," the voice softened from its panicked shriek. "Are you awake?"

Sam opened one eye slowly. "Mom?" she rasped. Her voice felt thick and sick.

"Yes, honey, I'm right here."

"What?" Sam looked around with her one eye. Was she in a hospital? Why the hell was she in a hospital? What had happened? Her heart sped up and she felt anxious.

"What happened? You were in a car accident!" Louise was struggled to keep a lecturing tone out of her voice. "You were supposed to be at Pam's for the night and you go out with a bunch of boys!"

Sam struggled with this information. She didn't remember going to Pam's. She remembered … riding Kitty with Jake in the arena. That was the last thing. She could still feel her sore leg muscles.

"Did something happen to Pam?" Sam stuttered. "The others?" She grasped for more questions. "What happened to me?"

"You broke your leg and arm and have a concussion. You've been out for three days." Louise tried to tamp down on her tears. "I thought you weren't going to come back this time."

"Oh, Mom," Sam reached for her mother's hand, feeling the tug of an I.V. "I'll be okay."

"I know, honey." She dropped a kiss on her forehead. "Everyone in that car was very fortunate."

Sam tried to smile. "That's good."

"But you aren't allowed to hang out with any of them anymore," Louise started her lecture. "I don't want you leaving the apartment except for school or work, otherwise I'm keeping you at home.

"You can't do that!"

"Don't argue with me, young lady!" Louise snapped, "I am keeping you at home especially while you are still healing. The doctors assure me that you will be well enough for January."

"What's happening in January?" Sam blurted, confused. Her confusion made her head hurt even more.

"I –" Louise stumbled, realizing her mistake a few moments too late. This wasn't the way to tell Sam. Not in a hospital room, not with a mistake. "Look, honey, it's not important right now."

"Don't lie to me, Mom." Sam narrowed her eyes. "You're lying to me again!"

"I am not lying to you about anything, Samantha," Louise told her harshly. "I am planning on telling you as soon as you feel a little better. Lying in a hospital bed is not a good time for heavy conversation."

"Why is the conversation heavy?" Sam demanded. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Look, hon," Louise sat down beside her daughter, covering her smaller hand with her own. "I planned on telling you this in a better place, in a better way."

"This sounds like bad news," Sam grew even more anxious.

"I don't see it as bad news. I see it as good news," Louise smiled. "We haven't had the best relationship over the past little bit, and I think that this is really going to help. I don't want to fight with you."

"I know Mom. I don't want to fight with you either."

"A little while ago, I applied for my dream job," Louise started slowly, realizing how much easier it was to talk to Sue about it than it was to talk to her daughter. "I just received a letter in the mail saying that I got the job."

"That's wonderful, Mom," Sam gushed, truly happy for her mother, "but what does this have to do with our relationship?"

"Honey, it would involve us to move."

"Move? Sam questioned. "Move where?"

"Alberta, Canada."

Sam's jaw dropped, she felt it hit her chest. She went to say something, but Sue burst into the room. "Good dear, you're awake!" She crowed. "I brought you a guest!"

Sam craned her neck, hoping to see Jake, or even Pam, but it was neither. It was a woman, an older woman with dark gray hair that Sam wouldn't have recognized were it not for that group photo on the porch she saw at Jake's dorm room.

It was her grandmother.

**I don't own anything recognizable.**

**~TLL~**


	17. The Pretty Ponies

Louise was the first to react. She rose swiftly from her seat. "Grace!" She exclaimed.

"Louise," unlike her daughter-in-law, Grace was smiling.

"What are you doing here?" Louise demanded.

"I-" Grace paused, "did Sue not tell me that she invited me to San Francisco? She called me the night Samantha had her accident."

Sam was craning her neck, trying to see around her mother who was planted directly in her line of vision. Her head swam with the effort and movement. Her arm hurt from where she had bumped it against her ribs and her leg was lying at a more awkward angle. She was trying to study Grace – _Gram _as Jake had told her. She wanted to talk to her, perhaps about her father, perhaps about Nevada, Sam wasn't picky. She wanted to close her eyes, let Gram's voice fill her ears and hoped it sparked a childhood memory.

"She did?"

Sam cringed. Louise sounded angry and she didn't want it to send Grace running. Sam thought her grandmother was stronger than that. She hoped, anyway.

"Yes," Sue glared at Louise. "I did. Sam's her granddaughter and since she couldn't be there when Sam was in her first accident so I thought that both she and Sam would like her to be here now."

"Why didn't you ask me?" Louise growled.

"Because I don't need to ask you everything." Sue rolled her eyes. "Now, let's go to the cafeteria."

"I am not leaving Sam."

"Oh, yes, you are." Sue planted her hands on Louise's back and forced her out the door. "I'll keep her away for as long as possible!" She promised Grace and Sam.

Sue and Louise disappeared and Sam collapsed back onto her pillows, suddenly embarrassed at how she had been staring at Gram. She felt a blush dart over her cheeks, turning her skin the colour of her hair. It didn't help that her head was aching, making her vision begin to blur. She couldn't even see clearly at this point. And she was sure she should be seeing a doctor.

"Hello, dear," Grace could feel her hands shaking from nerves. She hadn't seen this child since she was a little girl, and now she was a beautiful young woman. Still, Sam was the spitting image of Louise, except for her jaw. Her jaw was set like Wyatt's, prominent and strong, not willing to give in to anyone. Grace would bet, if she was a betting woman, that Sam was just as stubborn and headstrong as her father had been. "How do you feel?"

"My head," Sam managed, reaching up to brush gently at her skull with her intact right hand.

"Here," Grace leaned over and pushed the nurse button.

"Thank you," Sam managed weakly, feeling nervous. She couldn't take her eyes off of the elderly woman, whose skin was lined with wrinkles and whose eyes danced with wisdoms that she'd never heard.

"Have you remembered anything more since the last time you wrote me?" Grace asked, hopeful. Did her face mean anything to her granddaughter? Did she remember the countless hours spent story-telling? Did she remember the strong hand of her father, holding her around the waist the first time Sam ever sat on a horse? Would she ever remember the face of the man who loved her more than life herself?

"Uhm, no," Sam admitted, voice quiet, "not really."

"Oh," Grace paused, about to say more as a nurse walked in.

"Someone rang?" She asked.

"Yes," Grace turned to her. "My, uh, granddaughter just woke."

"All right," the nurse quickly glanced at Sam's charts. "How do you feel dear?"

"My head hurts, my arm hurts, my leg hurts."

"All to be expected," the nurse quickly checked Sam's casts. "Did anyone explain your injuries to you?"

"My mom said I have a concussion, a broken arm and a broken leg?" Sam said it as a question. She hoped there wasn't anything else that her mother had failed to mention.

"Right," the nurse nodded. "Now, the concussion means that we have to, unfortunately, keep you awake for as long as we can and that you'll have to be woken up every few hours for the next week or so."

"That doesn't sound like fun," Sam scoffed. If she didn't know it would hurt her head, she would have rolled her eyes.

"No," the nurse agreed good-naturedly, "it doesn't. Now, with your breaks, we have to be very careful about how the bones have set because of your previous breaks."

Sam had to bite her lip from blurting _previous breaks?!_ Her memory had remembered her old conversation in the nick of time. She didn't want to have to explain to the nurse her lack of knowledge on her own body, particularly in the case of breaks. She didn't want someone to yell 'child abuse'. She was three steps away from leaving this place as it was.

"That makes sense," Sam said instead.

"Will the previous breaks affect her recovery?" Grace asked.

"Well, it may slow it down a bit, just because we have to make sure that the bones set properly like I mentioned before, but it won't affect her negatively in the long run." The nurse smiled at Sam and Grace. "Any other questions?"

"No," Sam replied.

"No," Grace shook her head. "Thank you."

"Of course, dears," the nurse's smile widened. "The doctor will be in in a moment, and don't let your granddaughter go to sleep," she warmed Grace.

"No, we won't let that happen," Grace was quick to assure her. Grace took a seat at Sam's side. "I'm here for a few days but is there anything that you want to talk about right now?"

"Are you angry at my mother?" Sam blurted, before she could think not to. "I mean, she took me away, I don't even know how much you knew of me. Are you angry at her for letting me forget my father and everything?"

Grace was silent for a moment, thinking. "I was, I believe, for a long time. But there was a lot going on at that time too. I had lost my son, I had lost my daughter-in-law, I was worried for your health and I had no way of knowing if you were okay. My ranch was in crisis, I was not in a good place. I was being hard on Louise because I was also being hard on myself. As I began to heal I tried to understand that she did what she had to do because she was your mother, and a good mother at that.

"I have been in touch with Louise for the past two years. I kept my distance because I knew that you had a new life. She said that she would tell you when the time was right, if it was ever right, and I understood her perspective. I only wanted what was best for you, but obviously I wasn't right next to you to how you were. I had to trust her judgment. I did when she lived with me and I still do now."

Sam pondered this. It made sense when Grace said it. What didn't make sense was how much she felt at ease with Grace. Sam reveled in that feeling, however. She would rather not dwell on her negative feelings toward her mother. She would think about that when she was alone. Right now, she wanted to get to know her grandmother and more about the life she couldn't remember.

"What was my father like?"

"Stubborn." Grace nodded. "That was his main quality. The sweetest child, though of course I may be a little biased."

"Was he really a cowboy like Mom said?" Sam asked.

"Yes, he was," Grace nodded. "We ran a cattle ranch for a living, called River Bend."

"Mom told me that. What happened to the ranch?"

"I still live on the land though it's a joint operation with Three Ponies now – that's the Ely's ranch."

"How is Jake?" Sam asked. "Mom didn't give me any details."

Grace rolled her eyes. "Unfortunately for the doctors, they had to put him in a cast. Last time he was in a cast he cut it off a few weeks early."

"What did he break?" Sam wondered, and made a mental note to ask Jake about his other break when she saw him. Somehow it didn't seem right to ask Grace about him.

"His leg … Again." Grace added. "It is certainly odd," she commented, "seeing him in this city setting."

"Why is that?"

"Because I don't think I've ever seen that boy without a cowboy hat on before."

Sam thought about Jake in a cowboy hat. She had never seen him in one, though it seemed natural. She pictured a big black hat sitting above the wild brown eyes she had spent countless moments looking into. Instantly, she was struck by an intense desire to see him in one. She would bet that he had his hat in his apartment, if it was as much of a part of him as Grace had said it was.

"You don't mind me being chatty, do you?" Grace asked suddenly. "I'm not really like that. I can't remember the last time I said so much but I feel nervous."

Two thoughts struck Sam at once. The first was that there must be something in the Nevada water, none of the people from their seemed to talk much. The second was that she was glad Grace was nervous and had admitted to it. She had hoped that she wasn't the only one who was quivering but Grace had seemed to confident that Sam hadn't been sure.

There was a knock at the door.

"Hello," a woman stepped in. "My name is Dr. Higgins. I am Samantha's doctor." She picked up the chart like the nurse had. She then moved to Sam's head and tilted it side to side. She flicked on a small flashlight. "Follow the light with your eyes," she commanded.

Sam did as she was told.

"Good, good. Well, we're going to keep you here for one more night, maybe two if we must, just for observation. Nothing to worry about." She eyed Grace. "You aren't her mother."

"Her paternal grandmother," Grace explained.

"Oh," the doctor nodded. "I don't see any problems. But like I said, one night maybe two."

"Better to keep to the side of caution," Grace nodded.

"A woman after my own heart," Dr. Higgins smiled. "I have to run," she said in an apologetic tone as she glanced at her beeper, "one of my other patients is having a crisis. The nurses will check on your regularly." With that last word of assurance, Dr. Higgins swept out of Sam's room.

"I think I'm going to go down to the cafeteria, dear," Grace rose, "if you don't mind."

"Not at all," Sam shook her head.

"I think your friends will be in to see you, anyhow." Grace smiled. "And boyfriend."

Sam felt herself colour. "Mom doesn't like that Jake and I are together." She admitted. She thought of her mother's plans to move her to an entirely different country and felt bitter over the fact that if she moved her and Jake would break up. She'd seen the movies about long distance relationships. It never worked like it was supposed to.

"It'll work out, hon." Grace leaned over and kissed Sam on the forehead. "It's been so long since I've done that," she whispered, running a hand through Sam's hair.

Sam smiled awkwardly up at her. She wondered how long it had been since she had looked up at her grandmother like that, or gotten a simple kiss on the forehead from her. "I will see you later, okay?"

"Okay," Sam agreed.

Grace opened the door and Sam had been letting her eyes drift shut when she heard Grace speak. "Hello, Jake."

"Ma'am," Sam heard Jake's reply.

"I hope you'll listen to the doctors this time and keep that cast on for the appropriate amount of time."

"Thinkin' about it," Jake answered.

Sam grinned.

"Well, go on in," Sam heard the door to her room open.

"You awake?" Jake asked her.

"Lucky for you," Sam retorted cheekily.

"Mmhmm," Jake dropped into the chair that Grace had just vacated, tapping his fingers along his white cast.

"We match!" Sam pointed out, feeling childish as she gestured to his leg and then hers.

Jake didn't say anything, just moved to her bed in order to kiss her.

**I don't own anything recognizable.**

**~TLL~**


	18. Can't You See The Little Ponies

"Are you okay?" Sam asked as she pulled back from his kiss. Her fingers continued to linger on his defined cheekbone, however, and her fingertips tapped near his tired looking eyes.

"Are _you_ okay?" Jake repeated her question, but drew her against his body, squeezing her tightly, but not so tightly she was in pain.

"Apart from the broken limbs and slight concussion, you mean?" Sam tried to joke, but even as she said the words she could sense that he was not in the mood for it. "I'm fine." She pulled back a little so that she could look into his eyes but she was still very close to his face. "Why are you such a worrywart?"

Jake gave her a look that made her feel like an idiot for asking, though she didn't know why she was an idiot for asking. "Because," he said in a rushed breath, "last time you were injured you I lost you."

"Oh!" Sam gasped, realizing. She threw herself at him, pulling him into the same embrace that they had been in moments ago. This time she was the one holding him because she had been so ignorant to that fact! She felt bad, as well as confused, on her ignorance. How could she have not realized how her injuries, her _coma_, would affect Jake? She had seen, on rare occasions but she had seen it, how much her first accident (which she _still_ didn't remember) had hurt him.

"I'm okay," Sam assured him, placing a kiss on his neck. She felt him give a little shiver as she tickled the soft skin of his neck. "I promise."

"If you don't look at the cast, right?" Jake whispered in her ear.

"Right!" Sam exclaimed, smiling at him. "Besides, like I said, we match."

Jake opened his mouth, but he was cut off. Sam's hospital room door was flung open. It crashed against the wall with a tremendous bang and Pam stumbled through the door.

"Thank the lord!" Pam crowed. "I couldn't figure out what I was going to do if you were dead."

Sam quickly assessed her friend. Pam's forearms were heavily bruised and there was a bandage, presumably covering a cut, over her left eye but her friend didn't seem to be as damaged as Sam and Jake were. Funny, how injuries worked. Sam wondered how Darrell and Ryan were and was semi-disappointed in herself for not asking.

"Is anyone dead?" Sam ventured carefully.

"No," Pam and Jake said together.

"The others are fine," Pam elaborated. "Darrell is on his feet and annoying everyone. Ryan is a … little less fine …"

"What's a 'little less fine' mean?" Sam demanded, glancing between Pam and Jake.

"He's paralyzed," Jake finally admitted softly.

Sam sucked in a breath. "Oh, God. Darrell must feel terrible." She couldn't imagine the pain Darrell felt, just knowing that he had been the one behind the wheel when the accident occurred. She wasn't blaming the accident on Darrell, not by any means, but blame or no, being the driver when your friends were badly injured in a car accident could not be easy.

"Well, he's not totally paralyzed," Pam once again had to elaborate on Jake's meager words. "They're calling it temporary paralysis, in layman's terms. Basically, with intense rehab and physical therapy, he's expected to make a full recovery in 4-6 months."

"What about Boots and the horses?" Sam questioned. "Is he going to have to leave San Francisco?"

Pam's expression changed to one Sam didn't understand. Her facial muscles went tense, her eyebrows drew together and she was squeezing her lips together so tightly that the all of the colour washed out of them.

"Jennifer Kenworthy, his girlfriend, flew out from Nevada with Grace," Jake informed her. "She's going to be taking care of the horses and doing her schoolwork online."

"Jennifer Kenworthy," Sam repeated the name, allowing it to filter through her brain. She'd already had some flashbacks of Jennifer Kenworthy. "She was my girl best friend in Nevada, right?"

"Right," Jake confirmed, helping her rearranged her casted leg so that it sat comfortably. He was already hobbling around on his and she could barely make hers twitch across the tiny hospital mattress.

Sam was envious of his leg freedom.

"Is she in the hospital?" Sam asked, "I want to meet her."

"Yeah, she's here." Jake awkwardly eased himself off the edge of the mattress, into a standing position. "I can go get her, if you want."

Sam nodded eagerly, feeling like a child. "I want."

"So you're aware," Jake warned before he stepped out the door, "She and I don't get along, so me going to get her is a great sacrifice."

"I appreciate it," Sam smiled at him, hoping she looked slightly cute, and watched him walk out the door.

"You want to _meet_ her?" Pam exclaimed as soon as she thought Jake was out of earshot.

"What's wrong with wanting to meet her?" Sam furrowed her brow. "I think it'll be good. It might lead into my past a little bit more."

"Your past, your past!" Pam exploded. "That's all I hear about nowadays!"

"That's not true!" Sam protested, knowing very well it wasn't. She had talked about a lot of things besides her past (she mostly saved that for Jake and her letters to Gram). She and Pam had discussed the prom (which wasn't for another seven months but it never hurt to plan these things), Pam's crush on Ryan (which Sam, secretly and aloud, thought was too big for the amount of interaction she and Ryan had had), how much math sucked (a given for any high school student) and lots of other topics.

"I feel like it is!" Pam pouted, feeling like a brat. "I'm tired of being ignored. You spend most of your time with Jake."

"I spend a ton of time with you!" Sam argued. "A lot more time than I spend with Jake. Why are you so against me and my past?"

"Because I feel like I won't be important anymore!" Pam finally, loudly, admitted. "I don't want to stop being important to you because you're suddenly discovering all of these great people from somewhere else."

Sam let out a slightly insane giggle. "Oh, Pammy," she sighed, "You will always be important to me. You're my best friend."

"Promise you won't like her better than me," Pam insisted, knowing that Jake and Jennifer Kenworthy could walk in the door at any minute.

"Aw, well, I can't promise that," Sam joked, shoving good naturedly at Pam's shoulder, which made Pam wince.

"I'm sore," she whined, flinching.

"Sorry," Sam said quickly, knowing that she hadn't adjusted to her own injuries yet let alone Pam's injuries.

"It's cool." Pam tried to smile, but she couldn't disguise the look in her eyes; the look of physical pain and emotional pain. She was truly distressed over Jennifer Kenworthy, mostly because of Sam. She felt like her best friend was disappearing from her piece by piece; disappearing to Nevada. This Jennifer person would only get a piece of Sam that Pam couldn't afford to lose. But it also had a little to do with Ryan. Pam did have a crush on him, and the fact that he had a girlfriend did not dilute Pam's feelings at all, as it probably should. Pam didn't want to dwell on any of this though.

"I'm expected home," she told Sam.

"You're not staying in the hospital?" Sam asked.

"Nope," Pam shook her head. "I was discharged the night of the accident."

"Oh, right," Sam said lamely, forgetting about the three day lapse between now and the accident, as well as the fact that Pam's injuries were not as serious as her own.

"You'll be discharged soon," Pam promised with a smile. "They won't want you in here now that they see what you're like awake."

"Oh haha," Sam laughed sarcastically. "You're so funny."

"I know it," Pam winked at Sam, then reconsidered, "You know, it's probably better that you know it. You're the one that laughs at all my terrific jokes!"

"Your head terrifies me," Sam muttered.

"What was that?" Pam called, "I'm sure you didn't just insult your best friend." She smiled sweetly.

Sam's returning smile was just as sugary. "Of course not." She was the picture of innocence. "You're so perfect there's nothing for me to insult."

Pam let out a full laugh, the depths of it coming from her belly. "You're such a bitch!"

"Learned from the best!" Sam returned.

Pam heard footsteps and the unmistakable rumble of Jake's deep tones. "Pam out!" She told Sam, saluting her wounded comrade.

"Bye!" Sam giggled, returning the salute.

Moments after Pam had whisked herself away; Jake was leaning on her doorframe. Sam lifted her face expectantly, neck craning to get a glimpse of Jennifer. The more she was exposed to her past and people from it, the more she should remember. Right? Well, it seemed perfectly reasonable to Sam and it felt like it had, to some degree, been working. She had remembered things – nothing terrible huge but she had remembered them!

_ Gotta celebrate the triumphs, _she told herself.

"I'm goin' to Darrell's." He told her. "Text me if you need me."

Sam nodded again, though she was unsure of where her phone was. "Is he okay, mentally?" she asked.

She heard a girlish snort come from somewhere behind Jake. "Darrell has _never_ been okay mentally."

"Be nice," Jake growled.

Sam didn't hear a respond.

"An' if this thing gets to botherin' ya," Jake added to Sam, "don' be afraid to beat her."

"With a cast on?" Sam reminded him.

Jake just shrugged and gave her a look that said_ 'use the cast to beat her if you need to'_. She wondered how long Jake and Jennifer had been having a rivalry. She wondered if that was something she should already know.

Probably. It seemed like she should already know it all.

"Bye," Jake grunted and Sam waved, again hoping she had managed to look even a little bit attractive. At the very least, she hoped that she didn't look like a totally gross monster from the pits of hell. Which she probably did.

"Bye," she managed, before a beautiful girl floated into the room.

When Sam said beautiful, she was not exaggerating. The girl, despite the dark circles under her eyes and despite the fact that she was nearly scary-skinny, was gorgeous. She had extremely long, blonde hair that waved down to her thin waist. She was model tall and moved with a grace that she seemed totally unaware of. She curled into the visitor's chair next to Sam's bed and blinked her large blue eyes.

"Strange," she murmured, but seem to be talking to herself more than she was Sam.

"What's strange?" Sam asked.

"I, well," the girl, Jennifer Kenworthy, blushed lightly, her cheeks a light pink, "I guess I thought that you were going to look the same. Silly, huh?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't think so." She paused. "Is this awkward?"

"I'm the most awkward human on the planet," Jennifer confided bluntly. "If I wasn't awkward right now, I'd be very worried."

"I feel your pain," Sam tried to smile at her.

"Maybe not literally," Jennifer tapped her knuckles against Sam's arm cast. "Though I can't say I envy your pain."

"I can say I envy your lack of pain."

Jennifer flexed her arms, curling her legs up closer to her chest. "So you and Jake," she began, "you got together?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, soon after I met him again here in San Francisco." She looked at the white of her cast, unsure of where to go with Jennifer. She had remembered something of Jennifer but she was nowhere near having any complete memories or even remembering what the girl had been like when they had been young and friends.

"Could've seen that one coming," Jennifer relaxed more into the chair.

"What about you and Ryan? You guys are together?"

Jennifer smiled and it enhanced her features to the point where it would take anyone's breath away. "Yeah. I liked him for so long but was too scared to say anything and then, well, turned out that he'd liked me for so long but thought I didn't want anything to do with him."

"Sounds like quite a love story," Sam quipped.

Jennifer shrugged. "They all are."

**I don't own anything recognizable.**

**~TLL~**


	19. Dance Before Your Eyes

"That sounds really deep," Jennifer said quickly, "but I assure you, I'm more like a puddle."

"A puddle?" Sam repeated, not understanding where she was going with her sentence.

"I'm kinda shallow, I think. Sometimes. Not compared to some people, of course, other people are so much more of everything than I am it seems, but I do have my own traits."

Sam blinked, utterly confused by what Jennifer was saying. "I don't follow."

"I tend to lose people a lot." Jennifer sighed, "Let's start over. My name is Jennifer Kenworthy, call me Jen. I am sixteen years old. I want to be a vet when I grow up."

"My name is Samantha Forster, call me Sam. I am sixteen. I have no idea what I want to do with my life. None. Should I?"

Jen laughed. "No, of course not. I'm completely surprised I know what I want to do."

"Good," Sam smiled. "I have a feeling that you're going to make me really insecure."

"What?" Jen flicked her hair over her shoulder and it cascaded perfectly over the length of her body. "How could I manage to do that?"

"You look like a freaking model, sound like a freaking genius, and appear like you have everything together. I really have no idea how I'm going to deal with myself around you."

"You sound like you want me to go," Jen cocked her head to the side. "And I appreciate the flattery but it's really not true."

"No, I don't want you to go!" Sam corrected her quickly. "I just feel like you're like everyone else."

"What's that mean?"

"You like at me and see someone I used to be – someone I don't remember. I don't remember you guys, or anyone so … I just don't like it.

"Understandable," Jen nodded. "I get why you'd be upset about it. But I assure you, I don't see you as a little girl. Even if you did remember me, it wouldn't change that you don't know who I am now. It's the same as how I don't know who you are. And, for the record, Jake doesn't see you as a little girl either."

"I thought you and Jake didn't get along."

"We don't. Not usually. That, however, doesn't mean we don't understand each other." Jen shrugs. "Jake and I are a lot more complicated than we seem."

Sam studies the other girl suspiciously. "Did you ever go out with him?"

"What?!" Jen explodes, reaching an unnaturally high note. "No, never. Oh my god. Ew."

Sam cocked an eyebrow, believing her, but also feeling insulted at the same time. "That is my boyfriend you're talking about."

"Right," Jen looks sheepish. "It's odd, thinking of him with a girlfriend. It makes sense that, out of everyone, it would be you. He never forgot you."

"That's why I'm so worried he only sees me as a little girl. But you probably don't want to talk about this."

"I don't care what we talk about," Jen shifts in the chair so that her long legs are hanging over the side of the chair, her dirty sneakers nearly brushing the wall. "I just like to talk. And I find the prospect of getting to know you again exciting."

"Don't get your expectations up," Sam was quick to assure her. "I'm really not all that interesting."

"Pshh," Jen waved her hand, dismissing Sam's words. "This Jake conversation sounds intriguing. Of course," she adds thoughtfully, "I could just be plotting his downfall."

"You two sound like siblings," Sam observed.

"Would that make you our mother?"

"My boyfriend's mother?" Sam said with a laugh. "There's a messed up family."

"Sad to say I've seem worse," Jen giggled.

"Ugh," Sam rolled her eyes. "Anyway, as I said, I feel like he sees me how I was, not as I am."

Jen took a moment to reflect on Sam's statement. "I'm better with horses than people," she informs Sam. "But I think you're wrong."

"Wrong?" Sam repeats. "How am I wrong?"

"I know Jake misses the little girl you were, I'm not denying that. But he's not the type of guy who lives in a memory. He likes the past but now you're in the present, so he has no reason to be in the past anymore. He's ready to move on from what you were. Can I tell you something?"

"Sure," Sam nodded, thinking that if she ever needed therapy she would probably be going to Jen.

"He's in love with you."

"What?!" It was Sam's turn to hit an unnaturally high note. "In love with me? How could he possibly –"

"Calm down," Jen hissed. "You'll drag the nurses in here and they'll sedate you."

Sam snapped her mouth shut.

"He's always loved you. And now you're in a relationship. He's trying to go slowly with you because he doesn't know how secure you are – if you haven't noticed, he isn't that great at communication."

Sam snorted. "I'd have to be blind, deaf, _and_ dumb to miss that."

"That's a given." Jen swung her legs to the floor. "Look, I should really get back to Ryan."

"How is he?"

Jen smiled, though it was full of sadness and expressions she couldn't quite put into words. "I really don't know. The doctors say it's temporary, and he says does have feeling in his legs, but he can't really move them. And he's losing his mind over it. I don't know what he's going to do."

Sam reached out, catching the other girl's hand. She gripped Jen's cool, pale hand in her own, which seemed so awkward in comparison. "I'm here if you need to talk."

"Same as you," Jen replied, giving Sam's hand a squeeze. She severed the contact, and reached for Sam's cell phone, which rested on the bedside table. "Yours?"

Sam nodded. "Mine."

Jen unlocked the phone and found the contacts. "I'm just adding my number," she explained, though it was obvious to Sam.

"All right," Sam said wearily. She felt tired. And she couldn't wait to go home – or Sue's apartment, at least. According to Louise, Sam's home wasn't in San Francisco anymore; soon it would be in Canada.

Sam still wasn't ready to deal with that tidbit of information, especially not on her own. She just wanted to see Jake, have him wrap his arms around her, and talk to him. He didn't even need to talk back, he could just understand, in his Jake way, everything she was trying to say, even when she didn't understand it herself.

As for Jen's comment, Sam decided right then and there not to dwell on it. If Jake _was_ in love with her, he would tell her on his own time. It was just like if she fell in love with him, she would fall in love with him and tell him on her own schedule. She wouldn't want him to bring it up to her before she was ready to tell him.

"See you later, Sam." Jen waved as she, like so many others that day, moved to leave the room.

"Jen!" Sam attracted the pretty blonde's attention.

"Mmm?" Jen turned.

"If you see Jake –"

"I'll tell him to come see you," Jen completed with a smile.

"Thanks," Sam relaxed back into the pillows, letting her eyes drift shut. She listened to Jen's footsteps fade away down the hall and then she fell asleep.

(-.-)

"Good morning Sam!"

Sam's eyes burst open at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. It took her eyes focusing to place the voice and the person standing over her.

"Gram," Sam rasped in greeting, and was momentarily pleased at how natural it felt; not only to say the words but to see the elderly woman first thing in the morning.

"Yes indeed," Grace nodded, her gray hair following the movement. "How do you feel today?"

"Not as groggy," Sam admitted.

"Pain?" Grace asked, clucking over her granddaughter's injuries, though she was not doctor and had no idea what she was looking for.

"Not that bad," Sam reasoned, "considering what happened."

"That's fortunate." Grace said. "I have a feeling you'll be up and moving in no time."

"I hope so!" Sam exclaimed. "I don't look forward to the recovery time though. It seems like it'll take so _long_."

"Don't whine," Grace chastised. "Be happy nothing worse happened when you got into that car accident. And you listen to every instruction the doctor gives you – don't skimp out. It'll only hurt in the long run."

"Aw Grace," a deep male voice sounded from the doorway. "That's not true. I took my first cast off early and I turned out fine."

"You got lucky." Grace turned and shook her head at Jake, who grinned lazily at her. "It won't happen again."

"I'll take that bet."

Grace rolled her eyes good naturedly at the teenaged boy. "You take care of yourself."

"Yes ma'am." Jake collapsed at the end of Sam's bed, gently laying one of his large hands on the leg that was not in a cast. "You?" He asked, turning his deep brown eyes on her.

Sam's heart skipped a beat from his intense look and from the warmth resonating from his palm to her leg. He didn't even need to expand on his words, she just knew what he meant. "Better. You?"

He smiled, his lips stretching up to his defined cheeks.

"I'm glad," Sam said softly, glad to know he was feeling all right. She sat up, his hand sliding down from her shin to cup her calf. She reached for his hand, stretching across the thin hospital blanket she had been trapped under for the past few days. Jake met her hand halfway and their fingers twined together.

Grace watched the tender scene unfold, her heart both swelling and aching. She was instantly in love with the way she saw the two interact – both were full of respect and adoration for the other. Anyone could see it, even an old biddy like her. However, her heart ached because the last time she had seen Sam, she had been a little girl. Now, her granddaughter was growing up, falling in love. And her father wasn't even here to see it.

Grace touched the cross at her neck – a birthday gift from Wyatt the year he had passed. She knew he was here, watching over his daughter. Grace wasn't as religious as some but she believed in God and she believed in heaven. She knew her son was in heaven and God allowed him to be with his daughter when Sam needed him. If Grace didn't have faith in that, Grace wouldn't be able to have faith in anything.

A nurse entered the room, pushing a wheelchair in front of her.

"Seems you're gettin' discharged, honey," she said to Sam. "You said to be leavin'?"

"You know," Sam said, pretending to be thoughtful, "I don't think I am."

"Good," the nurse smiled broadly. "We love when they don't come back."

"I think the patients agree with you there!" Sam laughed, allowing the nurse to help her into the wheelchair. Sam winced as she was jostled but it was, otherwise, not as painful as she originally thought.

"So the leg will take about six weeks to heal," the nurse informed her as she pushed Sam out the door, toward Louise who was waiting for her daughter. Grace and Jake trailed behind the nurse and Sam, a strange entourage.

"That seems so long!" Sam gasped again, forgetting Grace's reprimand about whining.

"It's not so bad," the nurse said. "I broke my leg when I was twenty-three. The worst part is when under the cast becomes itchy."

Sam winced, already anticipating the hellish sensation.

"But it goes by pretty quickly. And you and your friend will be able to compete to see who heals faster," the nurse glanced over her shoulder and winked at Jake.

"Don't give them any ideas!" Grace exclaimed. "They'll be cutting each other's casts off before you can turn around."

"Aww, Gram," Sam sighed, "I'd never trust Jake around me with scissors."

**I don't own anything recognizable.**

**~TLL~**


	20. All The Pretty Little Ponies

Louise was not happy – everyone could see it. Sam, was choosing to ignore her mother's grim facial expression, instead choosing to focus on how Louise was letting both Gram and Jake into the apartment. Sam knew Louise really wouldn't have had a choice; it was Sue's apartment and it was easy to see how much Sue liked Gram and Jake. Still, Sam wanted to believe that it had something to do with Louise's goodwill.

She was propped up on the couch; one leg brushed the arm at one end, her back supported by Jake, whose casted leg was propped up by a stool.

"Why not trust me with scissors?" He asked her quietly.

Sam looked up at him. "I just have this bad feeling you'd get mischievous and chop my hair off or something."

Jake raised an eyebrow, as if to say:_ mischievous? Me? You must be thinking of someone else._

"I can see you doing it," Sam defended her thoughts.

Jake shrugged.

"Do you still eat ham and Swiss, Jake?" Grace called from the kitchen, where she and Sue were busy making sandwiches and a fruit salad up for lunch.

"Course," Jake answered.

"That's my favourite too," Sam informed him, her beautiful eyes lighting up when they met his.

Jake didn't bother to respond, he began to run his dark fingers up and down the pale skin of her arm. Sam's breath hitched in her throat, feeling amazed that such a simple touch, a brush of his fingertips, could make her heart speed up and her head feel dizzy. She leaned into him more, his scent filling up her nose as she took a deep breath in. She could hear his heartbeat next to her right ear, and she was filled with a type of contentment she had never felt before. There was just something beautiful and mind blowing about hearing someone's heartbeat fall into rhythm with your own, to thread your fingers through theirs and feel something thrilling beginning between the two of you.

She felt Jake lean his cheek against the top of her head, and goose bumps broke out all over her skin.

"You're beautiful," she heard him say, but it was so soft, almost nonexistent, that Sam wasn't entirely sure if she was supposed to have heard him.

In response, she brought his arm to curl around her, knowing that she wanted nothing more than this: this physical comfort with the boy she never wanted to let go of.

(-.-)

Sam wasn't sure how she felt about going to school with this _thing_. _Thing_, of course, being the leg cast that Sam was starting to believe was the devil incarnate. She wondered how she would feel about it at the end of six weeks if it only took her several days to full on hate it.

"Cheer up," Pam said, cutting her own strides in half to allow herself to keep up with Sam. "At least you're not carrying your books and mine."

"You know what? I will trade you, right now." Sam grumbled, maneuvering herself into a desk. How had she never noticed how cramped these desks and chairs were?

"Honey, if I could, I would. But only so you would stop whining."

Sam made a face.

Pam copied the face, making it even more grotesque.

"Cute." Sam rolled her eyes.

"Not like it matters," Pam scoffed. "I have no one to be cute for."

"Still pining after Ryan?" Sam shook her head to show, once again, his disproval.

"It's not even that I'm pining," Pam was quick to defend herself. "It's that his girlfriend is so freaking perfect and that he would never like me – no one does – and that I can't even ask him how he's doing because then it would just be creepy." She let out a dramatic sigh.

"_You're_ being creepy," Sam wasn't afraid to point this out to her. "The guy has a girlfriend. He's happy with her. There's plenty of fish in the sea; _available_ fish."

"Well, I happen to want that unavailable fish." Pam shrugged, unaffected by Sam's words. "Sue me, I'm human."

"Not that it matters," Sam said, ignoring Pam's last words. "He's leaving."

"Leaving!?" Pam shrieked, loud enough to catch the attention of the entire classing. Seeing whose outburst it was, most turned back around. Everyone was used to Pam's theatrics. No one took any special notice in the fact she was being loud. It was simply Pam being Pam. "Where is he going? Why are you just telling me this now? Details, Samantha!"

"Shut up and I might tell you something," Sam said. "He's going back to Nevada with Jen this morning."

_"Jen_," Pam moaned. "Beautiful, desirable, wonderful, supportive, Jen. I want to crush her."

"This act is getting old," Sam said bluntly. "I happen to like Jen, a lot. And you should leave her and her relationship alone. You barely know him, and, sorry to say this but obviously this point hasn't gotten through to you yet: you have no chance."

Pam glared at her. "No need to be a bitch."

Sam sighed. Great. Couldn't she get anything right?

Her phone vibrated and Sam pounced on it, happy for the distraction.

Jake: come to the diner after school. We really need to talk to Darrell.

Sam: sure. Wat about?

Jake: he's feeling really torn up over the accident. Need to talk some sense itno him.

Sam: I will b there.

She slid her phone into her pocket as the lesson started. Poor Darrell. She hoped that she would be able to help him feel better.

(-.-)

Sam arrived at the diner before Darrell and after Jake. Derek nodded to her from behind the counter. It felt odd being in the diner knowing that she no longer worked there; Louise had quit for her, right after the accident.

"Hey," she greeted Jake.

"Hey," he responded. "Milkshake."

"Yum," Sam seized the glass off the table. "Chocolate." She smiled at him. "You sure know a way to a girl's heart."

Jake smirked.

"So how did Ryan's flight go?"

"Good. He's home."

"Doing any better?"

"Starting rehab tomorrow," Jake informed her.

"Ah." Sam sucked on her milkshake. "What is he doing with the horses?"

"Boots and a few others are heading home with some hired men. Kitty and Witch are staying, provided I take care of them."

"Kitty," Sam eyes lit up at the sound of the name. "It's going to be a long time before I ride her again, huh?"

Jake nodded. "Ridin' in a cast is no fun."

"But you've done it?" Sam joked.

Jake shook his head. "Cut if off first."

"Oh of course," Sam scoffed. "How silly of me. You wouldn't ride with a cast on, you must get rid of it first and endanger your leg."

"I was fine." Jake ducked his head.

"Well I'm glad." Sam reached across the table and took his hand. "Keep it on the whole time this time, please?"

Jake sighed.

"For me?"

He met her eyes. "Sure."

Sam took a deep breath. "Look, before Darrell gets here, there's something I need to tell you."

"Mm?" Jake glanced at her, and then to Derek, who was heading for their table with a basket of fries.

"Mom and I are moving, in January. According to her." Sam blurted out.

Jake froze. Sam could feel him clenching and unclenching his muscles around her hand.

"Where?" He managed to say.

"Alberta."

Jake froze. His nostrils flared. "I'm not losing you again."

"I'm not losing you either," Sam was quick to assure him.

Derek set the fries on the table with a quick nod, but sensed this was not the time to stay and chat.

"I'm not going, no matter what she says. I'm not letting anyone usurp my life again, especially since I'm still trying to figure everything out. It's going to be difficult, fighting my way to stay, but I'm going to do it, okay?"

His breathing was still heavy. "You can't go."

Sam smiled. "I'm not, I promise. Okay?" She asked again.

"Okay," he agreed, reaching for a fry. "I'll help in any way I can."

"I know, and that means the world to me." Sam stole a fry before starting a new topic. "What were you planning for Darrell?"

Jake shrugged. "He's messed up, blaming everything on himself. And I can't let him do that."

"No, of course not. It was an accident, no one's fault."

"Says you." Sam turned at the dark voice behind her.

"Darrell," she breathed, wondering how he managed to look so _destroyed_ in the few days since she had seen him last. He had dark circles under his eyes, his skin looked pale and, how on earth did he manage to look so thin and small? "How are you?"

"Horrible," he said honestly, his voice breaking. "I'm so sorry. I never should have taken my eyes off the road, or allowed you to get hurt. I should have come to see you in the hospital but I just didn't know what I would say to you and I was so scared that you would hate me. You don't, do you?"

Sam slid over to the other side of the booth, guiding Darrell into the seat next to her.

"I don't hate you. And like I said, it was an accident. It was no one's fault, certainly not yours. No one blames you."

"I bet Ryan does." Darrell shook his head. "What if the doctors are wrong and it isn't temporary? I just destroyed his life, his livelihood. He'll hate me forever, if he doesn't already."

"He doesn't hate you. The doctors aren't wrong. He's going to make a swift recovery and soon, you two will be back, wreaking havoc around whatever city you choose."

Darrell shook his head. "I don't know if I could bear to look him in the eye," he admitted. "I can't even look at you, and no offence, but I don't know you nearly as much. He was my bro. I just don't know what I'm going to do if he doesn't forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive," Sam rubbed his shoulders in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. She just didn't know what to say; and Jake was certainly no help. It did cause her to wonder what Jake would have said to Darrell if she hadn't come.

"Of course there is! I fucking paralyzed my best friend! There is so much to forgive I don't even know where to start." Darrell lifted his eyes to Jake. "I'm so sorry about you too, man. I just hurt everyone in that car, and people who weren't. Jen is absolutely destroyed – I lost that friendship too."

"Darrell," Sam said his name firmly, trying to catch and keep his attention. "You haven't lost anything. Yes, people got hurt. Yes, you were driving. Does that mean it's your fault? Absolutely not. Does it mean anyone blames you? No. You didn't walk away unscathed either."

"I was barely injured." Darrell slammed his first down on the table. "I should have taken all of your injuries. I should have been able to fix things."

"Shh, shh," Sam murmured. "It's okay."

In truth, she was alarmed. Darrell was slumped over, face down, on the table. His entire body was shaking and she could hear whimpers coming from him. He was crying and she didn't know how to react. She just kept rubbing circles on his back, hoping that he would draw comfort from the physical action. She also hoped he knew that every word she uttered was true; he was not to blame and no one thought it was his fault.

"Dar," Jake finally spoke, his low rumble coming out.

"What?" Darrell picked himself up enough to look Jake in the eye.

"Don't blame yourself."

"You're fucking helpful."

"Don't be a bitch either. Sam's telling the truth. You know it. If it takes talking to Ryan to figure it out, go talk to Ryan; talk to Jen; talk to whoever you have to."

"You're a harsh, evil man." Darrell shook his head.

"You needed to hear it." Jake shrugged, unapologetic.

"I know," Darrell agreed, and let out a small smile.

Sam was lost as to what had just happened.


	21. Will Be There When You Arise

"Sam?" Louise knocked on her daughter's door.

"Enter!" Sam called back, keeping her voice low. Much to the chagrin of Louise, Sue had invited Gram to stay in the apartment and Gram went to bed very early. On the flip side of that, Gram was awake very early. Sam was both envious and mystified at the elderly woman's schedule.

Louise stepped into Sam's bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. She made her way, silently, to the desk chair. She cleared Sam's school binder off of the chair, sat down, and faced her daughter, who was lying across the bed, inspecting her newly signed cast.

"What's up?" Sam pushed her hair back out of her eyes and attempted to sit up on her bed. She could sense a serious conversation brewing.

"I want to talk to you about the move." Louise wrung her hands together.

"Oh! Well, good, actually. Me too."

Louise met her daughter's eyes, feeling confident about their relationship. This move would work out in their favor, they would work through this little hiccup in their lives, she would have her daughter back.

"I know it's going to take a lot of adjusting, honey, but if you're already excited about going, that's half the battle right there."

"What?" Sam frowned. "No, Mom, I wanted to talk to you about not going."

Sam almost couldn't stand the way her mother's face crumpled in on itself.

"Not go? You're my baby girl."

Sam took a deep breath. She could not get emotional. She had to speak calmly and try to get her point across without making Louise emotional – Sam already knew this was a pointless mission. Louise was already emotional; being around her mother lately was like walking on eggshells.

"But I'm not a baby anymore," Sam tried to say this gently. She could see from Louise's reaction though that, perhaps, she had not said it gently enough. "I will always be your little girl, but I am not a child anymore. I'm sixteen, and even though that's not very old, in two years, I will be out on my own. I am old enough to make my own decisions."

"You," Louise tried to say this firmly but there was a tremble in her voice, "are my baby girl. You will be going with me."

"No. I won't. I will be stay in San Francisco. I will finish high school and then move onto college. I will visit you. I will call you. I will text you. I will write you. I will do whatever it takes to make you feel okay, but I will not be going with you."

"This is not a topic of discussion." Louise set her jaw. "You are my daughter. I have custody of you. I will be taking you to Canada with me – whether you want to go or not."

"And take away more of my life?" Sam knew that she shouldn't – that she would feel so awful afterward that she wouldn't be able to live with herself, but she just kept plowing ahead. "Face it, you don't have _my_ best interests at heart, you have your own! Everything you do is to protect yourself – God forbid I live the life that I want!

"You may be my mother but that does not mean that you get to control me. I am a human being, your daughter, not your goddamn puppet. So, stop treating me like it. You stole a huge chunk of my life, you lied to me and you're trying to oppress me. I'm not saying you didn't do anything right – I am capable of taking care of myself, making my own decisions, and chasing my dreams – but you need to let me become myself."

If she'd had both legs in working order, Sam would have thrown them over the side of her bed and marched out the door. She would have let Louise sitting there, stewing in her own juices, until she realized Sam was right. But Sam didn't have both legs in working order, and therefore, had to sit through the retaliation speech.

"You ungrateful child! How dare you accuse me of caring about you? Everything I could do for you, I did do for you! Do you think I wanted you to forget about your father? Or even leave Nevada for that matter? I lost my life too, Sam. I would almost rather forget sometimes because it hurts so much too! And I obviously didn't do enough right if you have the audacity to tear me down like that!"

And Louise walked away.

She had just shut the door to Sam's room when the voice called out to her.

"Lou."

She turned. "Grace."

"Come here." The elderly woman, her mother-in-law, turned her back to Louise and headed down the hallway, toward the kitchen and living room.

Louise didn't even hesitate. She followed Grace into the kitchen, where she was waved into a chair. Louise collapsed into it, letting the hardy, dark brown wood take not only her physical weight but the emotional baggage that was bowing her shoulders.

"Grace," Louise's voice was a desperate whisper, but Grace shushed her.

"I'll make tea," Grace explained, "and a snack. Then we'll talk."

Louise shut her mouth, feeling her teeth grind together; she'd been doing it in her sleep as of late, and her jaw was aching. Her eyelids, which were heavy from the many sleepless nights she'd been having, kept drifting shut. She watched Grace, hypnotized by the other's woman's efficient movements in a kitchen she was not very familiar with. Louise remembered a time when she would never have been able to sit down while Grace cooked. She would have been right next to her, laughing as she interrupted Grace's usually meticulous kitchen order.

_"Louise, I swear, if you spill one more drop of flour on my clean floors …"_

_ "Calm yourself," Louise laughed, dropping a kiss on her new mother-in-law's cheek. "I'll clean it!"_

_ "How can one person make so much mess when they cook?" Grace was standing in the middle of her ranch kitchen, surveying the mess that her daughter had managed to create in such a short amount of time. Grace, herself, didn't usually make a mess when she cooked._

_ "It's a special talent!" Louise crowed. "Okay, there. The cake is ready for baking and the lasagna is in the oven. We're ready for cleaning!"_

_ Grace sighed with relief. It had almost been physically painful to see her usually pristine kitchen looking like this._

_ Louise was piling dirty dishes in the sink when she paused. "Wait." _

_ Grace froze, almost afraid to ask. "What?"_

_ "I still need to make icing."_

Louise wrapped her hands around the scalding mug Grace set in front of her. "Thank you."

"Have a cookie." Grace put a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the table before taking a seat, her own tea in hand, next to Louise. "Need to talk about it?"

"Am I horrible mother?" Louise couldn't bring herself to look Grace in the eye. "Did I fail her?"

"Fail her?" Grace exclaimed, bringing a hand to her heart. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

Louise took a deep gulp of her tea, reveling in the way it burned her throat and inside on the way down. "There are so many things I could have done differently with her. Should I have stayed in Nevada? Should I have told her about Wyatt?"

Grace saw the way Louise's eyes tightened at saying Wyatt's name. Ignoring the questions Louise had asked, for now, Grace covered Louise's hand with her own and asked, "Have you dated since?"

Louise looked down at their connected hands. Grace wore her wedding ring still, on her left hand. Her husband had been dead since long before Louise even came into Grace and Wyatt's life but Louise knew that Grace had never gone out on another date.

_"How long has it been?" Louise nodded to the ring Grace had just removed so she could do the weeding in the garden without worry of losing it._

_ "Eleven years."_

_ Louise pretended not to see the small tear that appeared in the other woman's eye at the mention of it._

_ "You're still young – why don't you see someone else?"_

_ Grace met her eyes. "You're not the first to suggest that to me and I've thought about it, but I don't see the point. He will be my one and only love; no one could ever compare."_

_ "How long were you together?" Louise asked._

_ "Thirty years." A smile lit up Grace's face. "He asked me out the day we met. My cousin brought him to visit and we all went to the fair together. We met by the Ferris wheel. He and I ended up in the same cart and we talked as that wheel went round and round and … by the end of the night, he asked me to be his." She met Louise's eyes. "I was eighteen, said yes and the rest is history."_

_ All Louise could think is that she wanted a love story like that – one with her cowboy._

"No. Between being there for Sam and trying to get my own life together, I just couldn't find the time, or the will."

"But you're still young," the look on Grace's face told Louise that she had been remembering the same conversation from over a decade ago. "Why not see someone else?"

"I loved him. I loved him with this all-consuming feeling that has ruined me for other emotions. I can't imagine even talking to someone else let alone –" Louise stopped. "I couldn't."

"All right," the woman nodded her head in understanding. "Where do you keep your ring?"

Louise pulled her hand out from under Grace's and brought it to her neck. She drew out the long gold chain that had her engagement and wedding rings dangling from it. "He's always next to my heart."

Grace had nothing to say. She watched her daughter-in-law tuck the chain back inside of her blouse. "He loved you too."

"Do you think he would have agreed with how I raised Sam? With my choices? If I had been the one to die in a horrible car accident, would he have done differently when he saw how she was hurt? Would he have let her forget me, would he have kept her memory alive? Would he have sent her away from Nevada or would he have let her stay home?

"If I had died, would he have been the better parent?"

"You have made the best decisions possible based on the positions you were in. No one can say you weren't looking out for her best interests. It was a difficult time for everyone involved. And as for what Wyatt would do, I can't really say. I may have been his mother but that doesn't mean I know how he would have dealt with a sixteen year old daughter.

"I believe that he is aware of your choices and supports them. But," Grace held up a finger, "I think that, now that she has begun to be aware of her past, he would want you to help her. I am not here to judge or criticize you – I hope you know that. I am just saying that you might want to be more supportive with her journey – both with her past and young love and anything else."

Louise digested the information. "You make it sound so simple."

Grace chuckled. "Nothing in life is ever simple. Just don't be so hard on her and she might not be so hard on you."

"What about moving? She's my daughter but she's right – I don't want to tear her away again."

"Let her think about it; let her make up her own mind. Separation will hurt but if it's for both of your best interests, who's to say it's wrong?"

"I think you may be right." Louise was reluctant to say it, reluctant to give up the dream of her and Sam bonding in Alberta, starting over again, just the two of them.

"And, if an old woman may make one more suggestion?"

"Go ahead."

"Let me take her back to Nevada."

**I don't own anything recognizable.**

**~TLL~**


	22. Can't You See

"Pam, will you just talk to me?" Sam hobbled after her friend. "Pam!"

The leggy girl, however, ignored her redheaded friend. Pam felt that, although it may be irrational to be angry at Sam, she still had every right to be. She had liked Ryan – had felt that maybe, maybe, there could have been something between them. Yes, she may be a teenage girl, but that was also her excuse. She should be able to pine after a guy (who she knew she couldn't have but she liked to daydream anyway) without her best friend exploding at her for it. Besides, Ryan was _super_ cute.

"Pam!" Sam couldn't keep up with her, but she couldn't allow her best friend to get away from her. It had been a week since their argument and Pam hadn't really spoken to her since. "YOU CAN'T IGNORE ME!"

Pam flipped her off and slunk out the front doors. Sam crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. It was the longest she had gone without talking to Pam and she really didn't know what she would do if it went on much longer. With a sigh, Sam slowly eased down the main steps. Sue and Grace were waiting for her in the car.

Sam almost didn't want to join them. They were driving Grace to the airport today, for her to go back to Nevada. Sam didn't want her to go; not only had she grown used to her grandmother's presence, but she had no idea when she would see her again. Sam had so much more she wanted to ask Grace, particularly about Wyatt. Now, after finally seeing Grace, talking to her, Sam couldn't imagine going back to longhand letters and timed telephone conversations because of how expensive long distance calling was.

Sam, quite simply, was not ready to let go.

From the way Grace was looking as Sue drove through the San Francisco streets, she was not quite ready to let go either.

"Did Mom say anything when you left?" Sam asked.

Grace shook her head, knowing that Samantha was not to know the details of her last conversation with Louise. "She wished me well and told me to have a safe flight."

Sam chewed absently on her nail. She didn't know what she was expecting Louise to say but she had hoped that Louise would have sought out some sort of compromise in Grace's final moments in the state. Ever since she and her mother had their last fight, Louise had avoided everyone like the plague. Sam couldn't even remember hearing her mother talk to Sue in the past week or so.

"I'll be sad to see you go, Grace." Sue piped up, seeing Sam go quiet in the back seat.

"It was nice to see you," Grace agreed with a smile. "We spent far too little time together when Wyatt and Louise were married."

Sue laughed. "I never did like that ranch of yours."

"No," Grace reflected. "You never did."

_"Sue!" _

_ Grace watched from the front porch as Louise sprang from the kitchen, running for the rental car that had just pulled into their driveway. She watched as the woman, nearly the spitting image of Louise, climbed from the car. Grace smirked, however. She could see the city dripping from her daughter-in-law's sister._

_ Sue pushed her designer sunglasses from her eyes to the top of her head, squinting in the sun. "Why on earth would you want to move here?"_

_ "Because there's no better place on earth!" Louise giggled merrily._

_ "When you married a cowboy, I didn't think you meant actual _cowboy."_ Sue's jaw hung open as she surveyed the ranch. She didn't think places like this still existed – this seemed like something straight out of an old western._

_ "Of course I did!" Louise snatched her sister's hand. "Let me show you around. I'll introduce you to all of the horses."_

_ "Uh …" Sue hesitated. "Perhaps a drink first?"_

_ "Sure! The barn can wait!"_

"I am still a city girl," Sue agreed. "But that was only my first time visiting."

Grace gave Sue a sarcastic look that Sue had seen on Sam several times – especially since her niece had hit puberty. "You didn't think that cows were still real."

"I didn't say that!" Sue exclaimed, outraged.

"Wait!" Sam jumped into the conversation. "Aunt Sue, how old were you?"

"I was in my twenties," Sue was fighting to fend off her blush – impossible due to her vibrant red hair colour. "And that isn't what I said."

Sam giggled. "Then what did you say?"

"I obviously knew cows were real – I do love my hamburgers, you know that. I just didn't think that people raised them like that – like, out wandering around on their own and stuff. I didn't think people just owned cows."

"Did you think they just fell out of the sky or something?" Sam asked, baffled by her aunt's thinking, though it had been years ago.

"_No_," Sue resisted the childish urge to stick her tongue out at Sam. "I just thought that they were kept by large companies in factories far away from here."

"While there are very few cattle farmers left, they do exist." Grace said.

Sue swatted at the old woman, turning into the airport. "I've gotten this lecture before, remember?"

"Yes, I was the one that gave it to you." Grace gave a crisp nod as Sue parked the car outside of the doors.

"I'll grab your bags, Grace." Sue said quickly, popping the trunk. "You have a moment with Sam." She climbed out of the car, slamming the driver's side door shut behind her.

Grace twisted around in the passenger's seat so she was facing her granddaughter. "Don't like so sad," she smiled, though her heart was breaking at the thought of leaving Sam again. "We'll write, and we will see each other again soon."

"Not with my mother," Sam tried not to sound bitter, or bring up Louise. She didn't want these last few minutes with her grandmother – for who knows how long – to be spent talking about her mother.

"Have faith she will come around," Grace only offered these words of advice, knowing that the teenager would find everything out in her own time. She studied Sam's face; the young girl's tired eyes, her brilliant hair, and the huge cast. "You know," she said in an offhand way, not wanting to make a big deal out of her next words, "you are exactly like your father."

Sam's eyes darted up to Grace. She had spent her entire life hearing that she was like her mother, and most of her life not wanting to be like her father, as she had thought that he was an awful person who had abandoned her and Louise (though, she had, secretly, been harboring the hope that she could meet him some day). "How?" She whispered. "I look like Mom."

"You may look like your mother but not in everything." Grace reached out, "this jaw belongs to your father. And you have his spirit. I see Wyatt in you so much Samantha. You meant the world to him, don't you ever forget that."

"Tell me a story about him," Sam blurted. "One where he was with me."

Grace thought quickly for a short tidbit she could give Sam. Sue had unloaded Grace's bags and was standing patiently next to them on the curb. Grace also knew, without even looking at the clock, that she had very few minutes left to spend with Sam before she had to be in the airport, awaiting boarding call.

"Wyatt had a favourite cowboy hat," Grace revealed. "And for your sixth birthday, I bought you a bedazzle gun, because you were so fascinated with the glitter and my sewing. You got up in the night, while we were all in bed, took your bedazzle gun and sequined his hat."

Sam clamped a hand over her mouth. "Really? I did that?"

"You were only young," Grace acknowledged, "but you did. Wyatt sure had a shock when he came face to face to his sparkly hat."

"Was he mad at me?" Sam's eyes were wide, not only from feasting on the story, but digesting it. She was trying to make it fit around the black curtain in her memory. There was a hole in it from where memories were leaking through and she was trying the reverse with this. She was trying to take the memory given to her by Grace and fit it behind the curtain, to see if new life would burst forth. But the memory wouldn't fit. She couldn't bring any recollection forth at all. She felt as though this story belonged to someone else – this memory wasn't hers.

"Lord no," Grace shook her head. "Well, he was a little, but not specifically at you. I don't think Wyatt knew how to get angry at you. As I said, you were his entire world."

Sue knocked on Grace's window, and Grace allowed her door to swing open.

"Sorry to interrupt," Sue said softly, "but you have to get in there Grace. You can't have your plane leaving without you."

"I know," Grace nodded, and reached behind the seat to grasp Sam's hand. "I'm always within reach for you Sam. For anything."

"When will I see you again?" Sam asked.

"Soon. I promise." Grace squeezed her hand and then hefted herself out of the car. "It was nice seeing you, Sue."

"You as well."

Sue remained standing on the sidewalk as Grace collected her bags and disappeared behind the glass doors of the airport. Then, once the elderly woman had disappeared from view, rounded to the driver's side and climbed in.

"What now, kiddo?" she asked Sam, meeting her niece's eyes in the rearview mirror.

Sam shrugged. She honestly didn't care.

"Don't look so down."

"That's not so easy to say. What if Mom doesn't let me talk to her anymore?"

"Like I really believe you're going to fall back under your mother's thumb," Sue scoffed. "You've become strong and independent and she knows that. She won't be trying to control you anymore."

"Good!" Sam burst forth.

"Just show her some respect, okay? She's still your mother and she's done her best with you."

Sam snorted, but, wisely, decided not to reply. Her phone vibrated in her lap and she glanced down, hoping that it was Pam. She was disappointed, though briefly, to see that it was Jake.

_Come over?_

_ Kk._ She replied. "Sue?" Sam glanced up. "Can you take me to Jake's?"

"Sure," Sue said. "So long as you promise that you will call me to get you. I don't want you driving with him or the boy who was driving the night of the accident."

Sam cringed at the mention of the accident and Sue's distrust of Darrell. Darrell was having enough time controlling himself over the accident – though he had seemed to calm down a slight bit (according to Jake) since the day in the diner. Sam didn't even know if he'd been in a car since the accident, let alone drive one.

"Okay," Sam agreed, typing out a swift message to Jake that she would be there within minutes. He sent back a smiley face that made Sam smile.

Sue dropped Sam off in front of Jake's dorms and watched her hobble inside. She felt a brief flash of worry for her niece and the cast, but flicked it away. Sam had a good head on her shoulders; a hard head, a tumble down the stairs couldn't do much but undo the memory block already in place.

Sam knocked on Jake's door and heard his uneven footsteps as he hobble over to answer it.

"Hey," she breathed as he pulled her inside. She barely had the time to get the words out, however, before Jake was shoving her against the door.

Their casts brushed together as he leaned her against the solid surface. His hands were gripping her body tightly, his lips firm against her own mouth. Sam gasped as wild feelings coursed through her entire body. She trembled and felt as though she were on fire. Her own hands were gripping his shoulder blades, and when he nipped gently at her lip, she moaned and dug her fingers into his back.

**I don't own anything recognizable.**

**~TLL~**


	23. The Little Ponies

"What was that about?" Sam panted when Jake released her.

"I just wanted to kiss you," Jake smirked.

Sam put a hand up to her swollen lips. Her entire body was quivering. That was more than a kiss; that was one of the most mind blowing things she had _ever_ experienced. She took a deep breath, trying to get her body under control. Her hormones weren't willing to stop at kisses and hands of his that never strayed from her hips, or hands of hers that simply dug into his shoulder blades.

"Kiss me as often as you like," Sam said with a smile.

"I definitely plan on it." Jake's smirk deepened.

Butterflies erupted into Sam's stomach. She bit down on her bottom lip and giggled like a child.

"Come on," he took her hand and tugged her over to the couch, both limping awkwardly due to their casts.

Sam tapped her knuckles along hers, making a face of disgust.

"On the bright side," Jake grinned at her, "it'll be off in time for Christmas."

(*December*18th*)

Sam trudged home from school, her leg still feeling weak from when her cast had come off. There was a bitter knot in her throat as she thought about her day. It was the last day of school before Christmas break and she was looking forward to the two weeks of no stress, even though Jake and Darrell were going back to Nevada for vacation. She was going to miss them a lot while they were gone. They were pretty much the only two people she hung out with – though she and Jen had become closer and closer friends due to texting.

The downside was Pam. Sam had been trying to fix things with Pam but their friendship was disintegrating more and more. What had started off as trying to advise Pam against perusal of Ryan (who was head over heels for Jen to the point where it was almost ridiculous) was very quickly turning into accusations of 'you were never a good enough friend', 'you're too self-absorbed', and 'you never want me to be happy'. These were all barbs that Pam had thrown less than a week ago, and were still digging into Sam.

Though Sam hated to admit it, she was going to have to let Pam figure things out on her own. She had tried all that she could; it was Pam's move. Sam slipped into the apartment, hurrying to put her school things away and start getting ready. Since Jake was flying to Nevada first thing in the morning (and by first thing she meant 4:30 A.M.; she did not envy him in the least) he had promised to take her out to dinner and a movie tonight (also having stuttered out something cute about old-fashioned dates).

"Samantha!" Louise's voice rang out from the kitchen.

Sam froze, feet away from the kitchen entrance. She had presumed the house was empty: both Sue and Louise worked and were usually out until suppertime at the earliest. Sam inched forward, tentatively, unsure of what her mother would want. If it had to do with keeping her in the house, Sam was just going to have to brush off Louise like she'd been doing more and more often lately (though it wasn't out of any desire to hurt her mother, it had just been easier this way).

"Yes?" Sam inquired, halting just inside the kitchen door.

"Do you have plans for later?" Louise asked.

Sam nodded. "Yes."

Louise's tired green eyes looked to her daughter. She fiddled with the paper in her hands, tucked underneath the table. "Cancel them," Louise instructed.

"I'm not cancelling my plans!" Sam cried, indignant. Louise hadn't even asked what she'd be doing tonight.

"I wasn't asking," Louise said quietly. "You're going to be busy tonight."

Sam's eyes went wide. "_Busy_?" Was she going to be forced to do chores or something all night?

"Yes, busy." Louise confirmed. She took one hand out from underneath the table and gestured to the seat next to her. "Sit, please."

Sam crossed her arms. "Honestly, I'm not really in any mood to talk to you."

"I wasn't asking," Louise repeated. "Listen to me, and then we'll talk about your plans, deal?"

Sam recognized the peace offering and accepted; stalking to the seat on her mother's left.

"I know that you've been having a difficult time these past few months," Louise began.

Sam almost laughed. It was due to her mother that the 'difficult time' had happened in the first place.

"And I've realized that I've made a few mistakes. I'm not perfect, Sam, and I know that. I know that getting to see Grace was something wonderful for you, and it's made me think that I should be more . . . lenient with my views on the past. You deserve to know about your father, your grandmother, and what your life used to be like."

Sam studied her hands. This felt different from any other conversation she'd had with her mother lately. This was honest; raw. She could _feel_ her mother's regret and her changing views. It made something in same ache: mothers weren't supposed to crumble in front of their children. It also made her look at Louise with some hope. Did this mean that everything was accepted? She didn't have to fight to correspond with Grace or to go on a date with Jake?

"I know it's early," Louise went on, not giving Sam a chance to say anything, "but I have your Christmas present for you. You need to open it now."

Sam's curiosity piqued. Slowly, Louise withdrew what she'd been holding under the table. She placed it in front of Sam.

Sam took the pale yellow envelope. _Merry Christmas_ was scrawled on the front in her mother's careless writing. She flipped it over, picking away the tape along the flap. Once it came free Sam slid the card out. It was simple; a green background with a red candle on the front. Merry Christmas was written above the candle's flame. Sam flipped the card open, a slip of paper falling into her lap. She took a moment to read the inside: _Merry Christmas, Sam. I hope this makes your holidays! Love, Mom._ She reached for the paper, eyes scanning and rescanning what it said.

"Is this for real?" Sam asked, voice hushed as she read the words once again. Her heart was hammering and glowing inside of her chest. She couldn't believe it! This wasn't at all like Louise, wasn't anything that Sam had been expected from anyone. It was outside of her imaginings and that's what made it beautiful.

It was also a sign that Louise was ready to lay everything to rest.

"It's for real." Louise sighed. She wasn't sure she was ready to take this step but she knew that it was the right one. And the longer she held off on letting this happen, the further she and Sam would drift. That was something Louise had never wanted, would never want, and this was the only way she could hope to begin rebuilding the bridges that had burned over the past few months.

"I – I" Sam was at a complete loss for words. She was suddenly struck by how much her mother must love her, must care for her, to do this. Keeping the slip of paper in her hand, she threw her arms around Louise. "Thank you so much, Mommy."

"I love you, Sam."

"I love you, too." Sam said quickly. She took a long look at her mother, smiled, before darting off to her bedroom. She dialed Jake on her cell phone as she did so, knowing that she was going to have to cancel their plans for tonight.

"Hello," his deep voice rumbled through the phone.

"Hi," Sam breathed, awed by how he could make her knees go weak by simply speaking.

"Sup?" Jake asked, not mincing words. Considering they were supposed to be seeing one another very soon, it would have to be something big for her to call like this. Perhaps she had . . . remembered something?

He couldn't dare hope.

"We can't go out tonight." Sam said in a rush.

"What?" Jake demanded, trying to close himself off to the fear that this was it: she was leaving him.

"Mom gave me my Christmas present tonight and . . . oh, Jake, you'll never guess what it is!"

Jake didn't see what this had to do with breaking their date.

"Jake, it's a _plane ticket_." Sam let the words escape her throat in a rush. "We are taking the same flight to Nevada in the morning! She's letting me go to Grace for the holidays."

_Oh thank God_, Jake thought. That was infinitely better than his theory.

"We can't go out because I have to pack and call Grace but I'll be seeing you at the airport," Sam bit her lip. "You aren't upset are you?"

"No. Nothing would make me happier than you being in Nevada for Christmas."

Sam smiled. "I need to call Grace but I'll text you, maybe. See you in the morning?"

"See you in the morning." Jake replied, hanging up.

Sam dug her suitcase out of her closet, opening it on her bed. She switched phones and called Grace, flipping through her clothes, trying to decide what she should take with her.

"Sam," Grace said as soon as she picked up. "I've been waiting for you call."

"I can't believe she's letting me do this!" Sam gushed into the phone.

"I think your mother has come to realize a lot of things," Grace said honestly. "I think you need to come to some realizations to."

Sam could dwell on what that meant later.

"Promise to tell me more about my dad when I get there?" Sam asked.

"Of course, dear. Once you're here, who knows what will shake loose in that pretty head of yours?"

Sam disagreed with the assumption that her head was pretty, but secretly, she had been hoping the same thing. She had been hoping that, when she returned to Nevada (if she'd ever returned) she would remember everything. She had hoped the landscape would jar free forgotten memories; long gone conversations. She'd hoped to recall her father's voice and knowing him. She'd hoped to remember her childhood with Jake. She wanted to know how she'd met Jen. She wanted to know a lot of things and she was harboring a hope (perhaps a foolish hope but a grand hope nonetheless) that Nevada would unlock all of the secrets in her head; lift the great curtain that was descended upon her mind.

It was time to remember. It hurt too much not to.

"I guess we'll see," Sam mumbled.

"So, when you land in Nevada Jake will drive you home," Grace informed her. "I've already set things up with Maxine; Jake's truck is at the airport waiting for him. He'll drive Darrell home because I believe that boy lives in town and then he'll bring you out to Riverbend."

"Sounds perfect," Sam sighed.

"I can't wait to see you." Grace said. "I know it's been a short time since I was in San Francisco but I've still missed you."

"I've missed you too, Gram," Sam was quick to assure the elderly woman that she was not alone in her feelings.

"I will see you, very soon." Grace said. "For now, I must say goodnight."

"Goodnight, Gram." Sam whispered.

"Love you, dear."

"I love you too," Sam replied, hanging up as her grandmother did.

Sam quickly threw bundles of clothes into her suitcase. She'd had articles of clothing hanging over her bedroom haphazardly when Sue had walked in.

"What bomb went off in here?" Her aunt asked wryly.

"I'm packing for Nevada," Sam squealed, though she was sure Sue had long since known about her present.

"You're excited," Sue observed.

"Of course I am!" Sam burst out.

"Just don't expect too much," Sue warned. "I know you. The place isn't going to immediately bring your memories back just because it was once familiar."

Sam's cheeks burned. "I know," she lied. "To believe otherwise would be foolish."

**I don't own anything recognizable.**

**~TLL~**


	24. Dance Before

Sam stepped outside of the Nevada airport, out into the cold winter wind. Her eyes widened as she struggled to take in the frozen desert landscape that surrounded her. Though she couldn't see much, what she could see took her breath away. There was something beautiful about this place – even if she didn't belong here, she would still find this landscape stunning. But she _did_ belong here. And she could feel that deep within her bones. Something within her recognized the desert of Nevada as her kin; as her home. She loved Nevada instantly, and she could feel that Nevada loved her in return.

Despite the overwhelming positive feeling coming from her heart, Sam could feel tears beginning to come to her eyes – tears that had nothing to do with the stinging wind. Despite all the warnings from Sue, who understood Sam better than the young girl would ever admit, Sam had still been expecting to walk out onto Nevada soil and have the curtain in her brain go flying upward. She was expecting to suddenly remember all of the lost people; the lost conversations; the lost memories she had been so desperately trying to reel back into her grasp. Unfortunately, there was nothing like that. She was still just amnesic Sam, with the mental block that was never going to go away.

A feeling of hopelessness washed over her. She was never going to regain her memories. She was never going to be able to move forward from this. So long as she knew that a good portion of her life was lost, she was never going to be able to go back to life as she knew it. She was forever going to be trying to regain what she had lost, recreating a past long gone. It was a horrible thing to think – a horrible thing to know – but she did know it; she knew it and it made her want to cry.

"You ready to go?" Jake appeared at her side, making her jump at his low voice.

"Yeah," Sam sniffed, rubbing quickly at her eyes. "I was just looking at the horizon. It's beautiful here."

"Yeah," Jake agreed. "It's home."

He reached out and took her gloved hand in his. He pulled her, and subsequently her bags, toward the parking lot. Sam stepped over the frozen ground, feeling it crunch beneath her boots.

"Doesn't it snow here?" She asked Jake.

"It does; Mom did mention in her letters that it hadn't snowed yet. Not that anyone is complaining – it gets hard to get around once the snow starts."

Darrell, who was leaning against the faded blue pick-up truck Sam assumed was Jake's, snorted loudly. "_No_," he corrected, "Those who live _way_ out in the country find it hard to move. People who lived around town –albeit around the very tiny town – don't general get storm stayed."

Sam's eyes widened. "Storm stayed?" She repeated. "Does that happen a lot?"

Jake shook his head. "Darrell's making out to be a lot worse than it is."

"I am not. Sometimes all you have to get around is your horses!"

"That's all we usually use," Jake reminded him. He loaded their bags in the bed of the truck before swinging the passenger door open and helping Sam inside. "To the middle," he said in a low tone. "Darrell needs to fit in here somehow."

"Did you just call me fat?" Darrell demanded, striking a diva-esque pose and pouty like a preteen schoolgirl. "Because I am beee-yooo-ti-_ful_ and I don't need your approval Jacob Ely; I'm perfect just the way I am."

"Well then get your damn perfect ass in the goddamn truck before I leave you at the airport." Jake growled, turning on the truck as though to prove that he would, in fact, leave Darrell standing there.

"Geesh," Darrell sighed, clambering into the cab beside Sam, slamming the door shut. "Men are just so _touchy_," he said conspiratorially to her with a flamboyant wink.

"Tell me about it," Sam stage whispered in return with a loud giggle, "my boyfriend is the _worst_."

"I will leave you both on the side of the road," Jake threatened, but both Sam and Darrell could hear the joking tone in his voice and didn't worry about his threat.

They drove through a small town. Jake pointed out a diner that supposedly had some kind of famous cake but it didn't register at all with Sam. She looked carefully at every building they passed; every landmark. Nothing at all jumped out of her; nothing exploded from her memory and went _you were here_. She was a stranger in a strange land that called out to her very being.

They dropped Darrell off at his house. He jumped out of the truck with a war cry, landing with a _thud_ on his paved driveway. Sam saw the curtains on the front of his house twitch, an aging lady peeking out to see what the commotion was. She smiled when she saw the woman –Darrell's mother – light up and drop the curtain, heading for the front door. Jake checked to make sure Darrell had seized his luggage from the truck bed before pulling out of the driveway.

"His mom is a nice lady an' all," Jake explained his rush, "bu' she'll keep us there for the rest of the day if we're not careful."

"Oh," Sam nodded with understanding. Her own mother was like that, on the rare occasion when guests were over to the apartment – even when people were obviously edging toward the door, intending on leaving, Louise would continue to talk, seemingly oblivious.

"I'm sure you want to see Grace." Jake added.

"I do!" Sam smiled, practically gushing. "I want to see Grace, and I want to see the house, and she said that she still has horses on the property, and she said that she'll show me pictures and stuff of my dad!"

Jake chortled at her obvious excitement; she was like a small child on a sugar rush at their own birthday party.

"Do you and Grace have any plans for tomorrow?" He asked.

Sam pondered for a moment. "No. She said we would just rest tomorrow."

"Would you want to come over to my ranch? There are some things that I know you would like to see."

"Like what?" Sam gasped, grabbing his arm in excitement.

"Like your horse," Jake reminded her of the pale beauty she had seen in a photograph in his dorm room.

"Right!" Sam's jaw dropped. "I forgot I had a horse."

Jake rolled his eyes. "Don't expect too much from him."

"But he was beautiful in the picture," Sam said, summoning said picture to her memory.

"Mmm," Jake muttered but didn't elaborate on his thoughts at all.

"Will you come pick me up?" Sam continued planning their day.

"I'll ride over; I'll bring a horse for you to take. The horses Grace has aren't really good to be riding long distances."

"What horses does she have?" Sam asked.

"I'm sure she'll tell you all about them." Jake said. "Anyway, we're here."

Sam leaned forward, inspecting the upcoming view. There was a thin ribbon of river curling under a bridge that Jake was currently crossing; the boards rattled underneath his truck tires. An old fashioned farmhouse came into view – one that Sam remembered seeing in the photographs in Jake's dorm. She could see a smaller dwelling in the background, along with several fenced in pens and a larger fenced in property. There were two horses in the nearby pen – the rest were empty.

"She only has two animals?" Sam questioned.

"No; the ranch hands must have their horses in the barn. River Bend and Three Ponies are a joint operation now. The hands here take care of River Bend's cattle – and River Bend still has the brand name – but all of the paperwork is done by Mom and Dad."

"Why?"

"After Wyatt died Grace wanted to keep the family land but couldn't keep up with running the business aspect. We blended operations and were able to, slightly, improve profits. Life is tough for a cattle rancher though; I'm kind of glad I'm getting out."

Sam didn't have time to comment on the words. Jake had brought the truck to a stop and Grace was already on the front porch, waving enthusiastically to the duo. Sam tossed the truck door open and jumped out. She raced to the porch, grabbing her grandmother in a hug. She couldn't keep herself from smiling. There was something special about being in Grace's arms; when Grace hugged, Grace made you feel safe and secure – happy and loved.

Her smile widened when she heard footsteps and scrapes – Jake dragging her bags up to the front porch – and his low good natured grumble. "Jus' call me Pack Mule Ely. It's all I'm good for."

Sam turned away from Grace and planted her hands on her hips, grinning at him. "At least you know your place."

Jake pulled a face at her and she pulled one in return.

"Samantha, act a little ladylike why don't you?" Grace asked.

Sam's jaw dropped, a little shocked. "He started it, Gram!"

"I'm sure," Grace smirked. "Why don't we get inside where it's warm? Jake, would you like to stay for dinner?"

Jake rubbed the back of his neck and shifted uncomfortably on the porch. "I'd love to ma'am, but Mom's going to want me to come right home."

"Oh, of course!" Grace exclaimed. "Foolish of me not to send you home straight away – of course Maxine has been missing you." She shook her finger at Jake, who had not moved. "Best get on your way, young man!"

Jake glanced at Sam, a dark blush beginning to take over his cheekbones. Sam, suddenly coming to understand his reluctance to just get in his truck and drive away, blushed along with him. Grace looked at their two red faces – not from the chilly breeze that was whipping its way across the land either.

"I'll be inside. Sam, come in quickly, dear. It's cold out here and I'm not sure you're dressed for the weather."

Sam grinned sheepishly, watching the elderly woman go bustling in the front door. She almost melted from the blast of heat that came from inside the house; it washed over her when Grace went inside. It strengthened Sam's desire to get inside the house; the home where she had spent her first few years; the house where her father had grown up. She waited until Grace was out of sight before glancing at Jake, who widened his arms, inviting her to him.

With a single step, Sam was tucked in his arms. She could feel his body heat even through his thick coat.

"I don't know how I feel about being back here," she admitted. Her gut twisted with the words; with the truth. She knew she was supposed to be happy to be here – she _wanted_ to be here. And she was happy, on some level. She felt as though she had been welcomed home. But there was also the disappointment of her memory not flooding back; of knowing that she was supposed to recognize the farmhouse and the horse pens and the fact that she just didn't.

"You just got here," Jake assured her, fingers running along her jawbone, making her look up at him. "Give it time."

"How much more time do I have to give everything?" Sam demanded, knowing that her voice boarded on 'whiny brat' and not caring.

"As much time as it takes."

"I can't tell if you're being philosophical or annoying," Sam admitted.

Jake shrugged. "Neither. Both."

"Have I ever mentioned how helpful you are?"

Jake smiled, his bright teeth contrasting against his dark skin and the grey of the day sky. "Perhaps once or twice."

Sam tightened her arms around his middle and he tightened his around her shoulders. He brought his mouth to hers, wrapping her up in a kiss. Butterflies exploded in her stomach; her heart; her veins. She was amazed that he could make her feel so much with just the simplest of touches.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"When?" Sam asked.

"Noon. I'll be here at noon."

**I don't own anything recognizable.**

**~TLL~**


	25. All The Pretty Little Ponies Will

Sam looked around the bedroom that Grace had escorted her to. It was certainly a child's bedroom – with a single bed; pink, ruffled accessories; dolls and toys scattered around; even tiny clothes still hanging in the closet. She brushed her hand along the top of the dresser, completely free of dust. After taking another long look around the room, she turned back to face Grace, who had begun to blush.

"It seems odd, doesn't it?" Grace stuttered, sounding very unsure, which was not something that Sam would ever have associated with her grandmother. "Keeping your room the same as the day that you left it. But, I didn't know what else to do. Boxing up your things seemed to imply that you were never coming back, and my old heart just couldn't handle that line of thought."

Sam darted to her grandmother's side, throwing her arms around the woman's waist. "Oh, Gram, I understand. Don't look so sad; I'm here now. I came home."

"And I'm so happy you did." Grace pulled back, patting her granddaughter on the cheek. "I do have some plastic boxes, for you to put old clothes and things in. I thought you might want to reclaim your space while I finish making dinner."

"That sounds like a great idea." Sam agreed with a smile. She helped Grace move the plastic bins into her old room before the old woman headed down to the kitchen and Sam was left her childhood bedroom.

She didn't know where to start. She stared around the room, spending several long minutes being overwhelmed by it all. There was so much packed into this room – photographs, toys, _memories._ Anything she touched could potentially unlock her mind; everything could come flooding back. Though she wasn't sure how her mental block worked – anything she remembered had come on suddenly – but surely, in a room full of triggers, something would have to happen!

The thought of remembering was also rather scary. She had been on a quest for months now, and if it all came back, she wasn't sure how she would react. But, regardless of that small seed of fear and doubt, she wanted to know. She wanted to have her memories back; she wanted to remember the face of her father; her parents together; her grandmother many years ago; and her child self. She needed to know these things because she knew that they were essential to the person she was now.

She decided to start on the closet and the dresses. She needed to somewhere to put the clothes she had brought with her and she also thought that children's clothes were a decent build-up to the possible emotional items she could discover in other areas of the room as she began to explore.

As she packed the tiny tops, small pants, and even smaller shoes, Sam discovered nothing. Nothing in her brain reacted to the garments, though she wasn't disappointed. She hadn't expected anything from the clothes. She barely remembered what items were in her closet currently. She had never put a huge emphasis on what she was wearing – so long as it fit and wasn't gaudy she would likely wear it.

The only thing that the children's clothes did was prod at a maternal instinct hidden in the depth of her brains. Though it was only small – she was far from desiring children of her own; even babysitting the young humans – she hummed to herself as she folded the clothes and thought of what it might be like, decades down the road, to be handling the clothes of her own babies. That lead her on a train of thought as to what he babies would be like (red hair and green eyes like her, Louise, and Sue?) and who their father might be. Sam tried not to dwell on that line of thought; not only was it awkward to think of the father of her children when she was still a teenager, it was awkward to think of the father of her children when she had a boyfriend – a boyfriend who was _very_ unlikely to be the father of said hypothetical children.

Before she had realized it, Sam had the entire closet and dresser emptied. It was a much quicker job to unpack her suitcase and hang her things up or fold them and tuck them into the drawers of her dresser. She slid her now empty bags under her bed and sunk down on the mattress. She sunk down on the pink comforter, laying her legs over the handmade quilt that was folded at the foot of the bed. She put her head down on the pillows and tried to think of all the nights she would have laid there – so many years ago – thinking her childish thoughts.

She wondered what those thoughts would have been.

She reached down by her hip, pulling Jingles up to her face. She had debated on whether or not to bring the beaten stuffed animal with her (did she really _need _him? Shouldn't she be old enough to get by without him now? The answer had been that Jingles had been through so many adventures with her that she couldn't bear to live him behind now) but in the end he had been thrown into her suitcase. She was happy he had survived the flight.

"Well, Jingles," she said in a low voice –she didn't want Grace to find her talking to a stuffed horse, no matter how much Sam loved said horse, "I guess we're in Nevada now." Sam paused, thinking about it. Louise had always said she had been given Jingles the day she'd been born. "You know … you probably remember this place a lot better than I do. Which is sad."

Sam rolled her eyes at herself and curled onto her side, facing her little stuffed horse. She reached out to bring him to her chest and stopped. Something was taking over her brain – bursting free from the dark barrier that had taken over her memories.

_ A pale arm – a child's arm, but definitely Sam's – reached out in the faint light. It was _this_ room; her childhood bedroom. It was dark out. She was tucked under the covers; shivering in the winter air. She reached down to the bottom of the bed and pulled another blanket over her. She snuggled deeper under them, watching the door._

_ Daddy was supposed to come in anytime now – not for tuck in. Louise had already tucked her in. Then Gram, who had made cookies, had sneaked her a chocolate chip cookie even though it was late and Sam was already supposed to be sleeping. She'd already had two tuck ins. She wasn't waiting on a tuck in from Daddy. She was waiting for him to bring her Jingles._

_ She didn't know when she had lost her pony but she as soon as Louise had declared that it was bed time, Sam had noticed her little stuffed friend was missing. She had stamped her foot and let out a whine – she couldn't sleep without Jingles, and Mom knew that. She wasn't going anywhere until Jingles was in her arms._

_ Louise had crossed her own arms at her young daughter, and ordered her to go to bed. Sam stuck her tongue out at her mother and had jumped into her father's arms. Her father had echoed her mother's words – it was time for her to go to sleep._

_ "But, Daddy!" She had whined, "I _can't_ sleep without Jingles."_

_ "You need to do what your mother says."_

_ "Daddy!"_

_ "Samantha," Louise broke in, "Listen to your parents."_

_ "Jingles!" Sam protested._

_ "I'll go look for him," Wyatt swore, "if you let your mother take you to bed."_

_ Sam had agreed to the conditions and followed her mother upstairs. They had put on her night gown, brushed her teeth, brushed her hair, and read a bed time story. Louise had kissed her forehead, said goodnight, and gone downstairs. Still, no Jingles._

_ Sam tossed and turned for a very long time. Every time she heard a creak in the steps, she would sit up, eagerly waiting for Wyatt and Jingles. Still, he never came._

_ Grace came up, whispering softly with a still warm chocolate chip cookie in her hand. Sam had devoured it silently, hugging her grandmother goodnight. Grace drew the covers up around Sam's neck, smoothing the blankets. They said goodnight and Grace left the room. Still no Jingles._

_ Even though Sam's eyes were beginning to feel heavy, and she was feeling exhausted, she still didn't want to sleep. She was missing the soft weight of Jingles in her arms. She wouldn't sleep without him._

_ And then Wyatt appeared in the door. She was sitting up instantly, eyes wide, awaiting news. In response, she saw him hold out the horse. Sam squealed, jumped out of bed, and went straight into her father's arms._

_ "You found him!"_

Sam startled out of the memory, looking at Jingles. "You were in a horse stall," she said slowly, struggling to pull this memory out of the closing gap in her memory. "The horse was getting ready to foal, and I wanted it to have a toy. But then I missed you too much."

A tear, unbidden, ran down her cheek. This was the closest she had come to remembering her father, but even the memory had been wrong. Though she knew her child-self had looked into her father's face, in her memory he had been blurred – she couldn't make out his face. Even though she had seen him in Jake's photo, she couldn't bring him to life in her mind. And when he had spoken, it sounded like a monotone robot voice, _not_ the voice of her father. Why couldn't she remember his voice?

But when he put his arms around her in the memory, she could _feel_ her father's hug. She would swear that now, still, she could feel his embrace.

The thought warmed her heart. For the first time since she had found out that he had not abandoned her, that he had loved her for years before he had died, she felt connected to him. He was no longer a memory she was fighting to get back – a far off idea of _father_ – he was a _Dad_ to her now. She could hear her own voice – her thin, reedy child's voice – calling out 'Daddy'.

She pushed herself up off the bed. "Well, Jingles. I guess there's more work to do."

The next thing she did was look under her bed. Her bed at home, in San Francisco, was a mess underneath. That is where she hid all of her precious things – under her bed, against the wall. And then she would pile non-precious things, like outgrown clothes or loose socks up high around them so that if her mother or Sue happened to look under there, all they would do would be to shake their heads and call her untidy. They wouldn't see the things that she didn't want them to see; the things that she liked to keep just for her.

It turned out, that it was a habit she had carried over from childhood. She had to clear away stained t-shirts, impossibly tiny cowboy boots, and broken toys before she got to anything that looked like it might hold sentimental value.

The first valuable thing she pulled out was a photo album. It was small in size and covered glittering stickers, clearly decorated by her younger self. She flipped open the first page, to a wedding photo of her parents. Underneath, in her mother's curly writing, was the date they had wed on.

The next photograph was of her birth; Louise holding her baby self, with Wyatt and Grace standing over them.

And then there was her and Jake, she still in diapers.

Her first day of school; she had bright red braids in pigtails, ones that matched the girl who was standing next to her. Except she was blonde. Sam smiled as she recognized the girl – Jen.

She then turned the page, losing herself in even more memories.


End file.
